Fifty Pound Funk
From bad to worse, the day moved
unchecked, then in a moment,
I found the self respect I’d lost
and got smart, and tossed this
fifty pound funk.
It had made its home on my shoulder,
and made every day colder, suffocating
me with fears, till all I was aware of,
was that I was getting older,
and I was still just sitting here.
But that rapturous instant came,
brought on by polyphonic rhythms
and rain, by hues of purple against
asphalt black, and sharing stories
over the remains of a six pack.
O my! how these moments capture us,
and leave us floating in the ether
above, the portal lies concealed
from selective eyes, tucked beneath
our choice of fear or love.
Between being safe from harm
and strife, and risking it for the charm of life.