Waltzing with Calamity by unknown.
one thing is certain
as certain as the crisp wind sneaking through the window
to a room decorated in broken lanterns and faded doll shoes
you can search in every musty book in all the libraries
you can ask every wise old man sitting atop mountains\ \
they simply tell you to eat your breakfast and take long walks in restless western roads
you can open every drawer, smoke every drug
dance to accordions on street corners,
wearing your knitted red cap and watched by smug cats atop rusted gates
you can sing so loud it hurts your stomach
resting on the words that paint all your pictures, pictures that give you wings
the problem is they don’t tell you
they fill your head with heavens and daffodils
mushrooms that make you feel taller or so very small
but everyone TELLS you everything else
and everything speaks and seems to exist more than you feel
sometimes the salt shaker on the table has more self purpose
the trees are with you, as they ache for their green dresses in the cold of November
the rings on your fingers rival the rings that they hold for ages
but one thing is certain
you are here
and I know you are
i will meet you in the hallway.
I never found very many interesting messages on the Hudson Valley Missed Connections (despite its proximity to NYC which has one of the most robust forums) but this poem caught my attention in part because of the image. I don’t know if it’s a photo from a film or a work of art or if it’s an image of the writer or the subject. Kind of like coming across a photograph inside a book in a used bookstore. Lots of questions and no answers.
