not yet

no words yet
really
to grasp what is happening
in front of my very eyes

i am so far
and so near
from and to
anywhere

when i hear your voices
i remember and recall
and want to jump in the red chevy
and listen to some puerto rican reggae
run into the ocean or ride down Marguerita Avenue
with the sun and the wind in my hair

but now it is the thick green
that holds me captive
the quirly swirly sounds of the creeks
the crows in the cloudy skies
the rolling hills dancing with thunder

i've seen it all

and the music remains the same

'i hear the clock tick'