4) Stone Cold Blue

stone cold blue late afternoon
encased in the amber
of electric light and dreams,
the servant of excellent messenger
placed chicken scratches
on white sleeves of trees,
attempted to comprehend
the ever moving instant now

voices echoed whispers
from his crowded youth
where ghosts haunted his feet
when he walked the streets
in search of the words
which knew no language

reflected back from the windows
haunted eyes mirrored cascaded
the eternal endless seconds
where he was lost
within the millennium of memories

he smiled at the irony
of such self-importance,
lit another cigarette, walked on
through the sunset of his musings

if he had anything
important to tell the world
he would have stopped
a long time ago to listen,
but even when the words fell short
he could not discount
the momentum of habit

it was his one true friend,
all the others seemed to leave
while he was busy preparing
to have something to say