The day is still and quiet

Only a few floating question marks

Flit around my head like planets

Sounds of plumbing  steaming creaks and moans

Footsteps of determined destinations from room to room

Alternating currents of warm and cold

Outside new snow already looking old

Otherwise the door is open

Waiting for the next event

Nothing much in between

Nothing came , nothing went

But it is a beginning

It should be something new

It should be something hopeful

Day one, Day two

Gearing up for little steps to make me feel alive

Pulling back the bow and aiming true

I close my eyes and wonder what those arrows do

The days pile on relentlessly, creating heavy pressures

Heavy loads to bear ,  Weaving roads to where

Tension between  art and science, skill and random strokes become one

Day Two, Day One

I walk through, self-consciously, a little shy,

afraid to catch your eye, but wanting to be seen