Alone

Alone i stand

on the side of a hill

waiting

as a few birds

(quite a few)

fly by

i remain Alone

with my thoughts

my jumbled sporadic thoughts

and time

which has done nothing for me

except to keep on pulling me away

from the good times

and bad times

and no times as well

and although the shadow of no one is moving constantly

i

remain

motionless

fixed

am i afraid to move?  too weak?  or indecisively content?

i have a pad and pen and i’m writing nothing periodically furiously

the words just seem to spill out of my pen like a flood rushing into thin air

my 8-track mind keeps running away from no one with no one

but there is one track

a track of a tear

a single

Lonely

tear,

running down my right cheek

falling straight to the ground,

Alone

what a place, i think out loud

to that someone called no one

just this hillside and i

and the track of that Lonely tear

now just a vapor in the air

and a slowly disappearing memory on the ground it landed on

and we stand tall

but not at all

we can’t fall

slammed back against the wall

and the rains are such a driving mist

that the sun has a moon-like darkness

Alone, and i wish i had that one Lonely tear back

i couldn’t hold on

it wanted to leave

so it left

left me Alone

all Alone

on that hillside

i fell asleep

the pencil is glued to my hand

and i am writing crazy thoughts

onto a non-existing piece of paper

trying to make sense of something i didn’t know i already had figured out that i didn’t know

whatever

it has left me confused

but i am not Alone in confusion

because that is where everyone exists

funny though,

when surrounded by crowds of someones in confusion

we still feel Alone

please find the slow wide river so that i can swim to shore

although the deep dark woods seem to be crying to me

to stay away

“that’s enough,” no one said to me, and i agreed, so i placed my pad and pencil down where the tear had fallen, and no one and i fell asleep standing on the side of a hill of thin air