The Floating Stranger

A while, since I have been here,
a long, long time.
How have you been?
I no longer recognize you,
my friend,
my enemy,
you who remains fluid
in this prism of self-reliance.

Like water,
flowing in a puddle,
dripping,
drip,
drip,
through the back of a neck,
relieving pressures unmeasured.

I find myself walking,
to where,
hmm,
somewhere.
The breeze feels good.
My eyes can't yet see the beyond,
hmm,
1 2 3 4,
1 2 3 4,
hmm…
what fun.

These train tracks take me
to places unknown,
heating up with anticipation
to go to a future unbidden.
Tick tock,
tick tock.
The breeze feels good.

The earth looks so big from here.
Am I floating?
There is no atmosphere here,
hmm,
missing wind,
everything so cold,
yet,
yet,
the breeze,
hmm…
feels good.

Who/where am I?
Is this the past,
the future,
or me untethered?
Hello there, old friend.
I wonder,
has the desert been kind?
hmm…
the wind feels nice still.

Take me to the mountain,
to that mountain whose peak I can’t see,
to my friend I long to see,
hmm…
what fun to walk.
Are you done?
Am I?
Irrelevant,
unimportant,
I move.

What joy to groove to a beat,
not of our own,
immersed in a daze,
feeling freer than before.
Hmm…
Time condensed.

I find myself walking,
to where,
hmm,
maybe there.
The breeze feels good.
My eyes can't yet see the beyond,
hmm,
1 2 3 4,
1 2 3 4,
hmm…
what fun.