mood: incompletemusic: 'tone twilight zone' by cornelius

Backs To The Sand

What is it
that I live for?

Well I know sometimes.
For that short hour

(or two or three
or four).

Whenever life comes dashing by
on a hot summer afternoon,
it’s like I can’t speak
when I should be shouting for joy.
I stand still
when I should be running.
I’m dreaming
when I should be taking action.

It’s the wind, this time.
It’s brushing against my arms,
tousling my shirt,
drifting across my face.

Each delicate strand tickling my nose.
Wide-eyed and wonderful.
Doe-eyed, delirious.

“But it’s just the wind,”
he says,

secretly hoping that he’s wrong
this time.

---Goei---