i want an open sky

a blank-ness
a do-over
no, just a gray white sky
that says
nothing

not a place to colonize
or paint across,
with what little meaning
that might never matter,
(might never pass
for any thing at all...)

just to breathe in
like running between 5am and 7am
from the top of a mountain
in new york state
chill air not cold
just fresh
wet

dirt no other shoes have hit
pounded by the weight
of feet
escaping miles traveled
before
before this morning

a new moment
always comes,
but is never registered
until it passes

morning haze
obscuring the landscape
quiet. chill. possible.


>>and to lie down in it, is to remember, Lines for Winter...