The noise from the street is always available. It seems to be the one thing you can count on. Cars going by and some drivers might yell out to someone they think they know. It all blends together like the mazzic on the wall painted in tribute to a heartbeat that still continues in the rainbow that occasionally appears in the sky.
Everyone wants to remember at any cost. Lights flash from walk to stop, red to green, and it never indicates the real movement that defines who you are in the universe of chaos. Change presents itself in a flash when you pass a store and look into the glass image that is constantly calling to the wind to define its shape.
When the noise stops, the clamor seizes, and your thoughts wander through a petrified forest of yesterday’s catching one more glimpse in the water that runs into the eyes of someone who once believed.
Lily Tierney enjoys writing short stories and poetry as life sings in the branches.