from my grandpa’s bed, drifting past graffiti

dance in deadened alleyways where street kids left their mark for us to mull over

the magnitude of a spray can stance against conformity

we direct this freedom dance

corralling creativity

explosions against normalcy

guiding

what if we let them go?

if they grazed from gardens undisturbed by our hands

trees with fruit that never makes it to a stand

enough for each who come to this land where an end is never found, though we’re all horizon bound

as the sun rises

we try to catch it

boomerang motions sustain life

tread and untread trails wait for our feet

where we’ll meet and discover what was left behind

listening to the soundtrack of humanities rewind

understanding the streaks of paint are ours, a depiction and understanding

the motion of stars

it’s not to far

follow me.

One thought on “from my grandpa’s bed, drifting past graffiti

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