A moving Soul can only hold on to it’s body of lies.
Seeking broken crevices, only to lay on cement.
Realizing the cycles of seasonal collections.
Ghostly thoughts never cease in a human world.
A familiar face reappears eliciting surprise
Changing blood, charcoal to crystal white.
Despite the corner view of my mind’s
eye the fear changes direction insight.
Whether the coronal flare batters.
the sidewalk more than the road.
Indeed the frost there after
is the road further from traveled.