I walked for several miles
down railroads, walking trails
and a commercial strip
thus had crossed a creek which flowed and weaved
them all into one thought:
At one juncture,
I stretched out and looked up at the night.
The stars are out.
I thought how poor my eyes
to not burn them each into my mind.
Why couldn’t I memorize the sky?
Perhaps I needed a roof over my head
and to make a living during the day,
thus survive by my reach
for the known,
tried and true.
I hear progression blow it’s whistle
a brook who babbles
and evolutionary lag felt between the two.
And this artist wanders and wonders
down abandoned tracks.
He ties himself down
until a train or thought comes to pass
to answer the question with an engine
to carry the freight or weight
of a heavy mind who plays chicken
Author: Rj Wiechecki
I am a writer, both poet and philosopher. I do works of philosophy through the medium of poetry. I also do commissioned work as a poet as a business.