River/A Breathing Outline

Poems on the thoughts of strangers and times when you can't breathe

River

A river flows by and my thoughts awaken

While I stare out the window at Union Station

People filter by on the streets down below

I ponder and wonder, “Where do they go?”

When I’m one of them out  trudging the street

Do they think, “Who is he?” or “When will we meet?”

Are the stories they craft for my life on this planet,

Better or worse than my life as I planned it?

Are my own life’s desires held back by my vision?

What path would I take if I had a new prism?

I can’t see from above, like the strangers in windows,

But take my own steps, where’er they lead or follow.

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A Breathing Outline

There’s an outline partly filled

The eyes see it, the mind acknowledges

But the tongue, restrained, gives no language to the color inside

Black and white is all I am allowed to speak

Though we can breathe in color

But my ribs no longer give, fixed in place

Lungs unable to expand their breadth

The dying cough of unexplored depths