Nowhere Land

The days pass
they are empty and flat
and I wish to be where
I am not.

The rain is dirty and the wind raw
there is no pure summer
in the city
and the winter that I loved so
was then, not now.

I am moving and I fear the
getting slow -
tomorrow I will have time to think
in silence, door shut
on things past and still to go.

Ashes in my mouth my life
has been
the sun on the mountain
a dream.

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