thoughts from the porch… (gears)

thoughts from the porch… (gears)

autumn leaf board colors dark
Photo by Lisa Fotios on Pexels.com

taking this moment to study and enjoy the subtle-ness and suppleness of this cool breeze, letting it caress me, wrap itself around me, swirl undress me to my core, while still clothed, how this wind in my hand allows me to wind down, the gears, to a grinding rusty sparking halt, to full inhale and breathe deep, to realize the world has had me wound going at an accelerated pace, all day, for no real rational reason, I suppose this is manifest stress destiny, allowing your gears to be flung wide west open to please the demon of production, of work that is never done and will still be here long, undone as I am off into the next stage of life, how easily we get wrapped into the tow throng of the assembly line, I suppose it is all in the deft trap of routine, the schedule, the drive, the morning coffee, the vacant hellos to some, the longer hellos to those that know you, or at least know ‘the work you’, and those that are actually friends outside the confines, the walls all determined by time cards and paychecks, a structure construct, the contract codex of the workplace, the pace, a race, to nowhere or upwards rung for more money less time both in years and in life as time forwards by, the gears shift seamlessly and to all speeds, speeds by so rapidly without seams, no fun mondays blur into wtf wednesdays to gateway fridays and weekends relief, the summer is gone and I barely had time to admire her smile, warmth, and sun, I do not miss the bugs however, to sit out on nights like these, this comforter of a breeze, much cooler than has been, not enough to chase me in, or out of my shorts, my toes are growing cold but I still prefer bare-feet for now, the dew on the lawn is certainly cold, not a foil anymore to a blazing sun’s gaze, but for at least a few more precious days I can pretend to feel what the summer was while awaiting the growing cold, such is the nature of things, such is nature, the pace is the same, year in and out, the seasons roll in and out, the rest of the natural world flows as the river natural goes, but do we ?

(part of my porch series… which I try to keep up with, when it happens but the page is not always 100% up to date, but I try my best when I have time, so thanks in any regard..)

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