Gerald a Buss

Blue Book 2007 Gerald a Buss

Till Time Comes to an End Impressions vague and amorphous, images liquid washing one into another, colors exchanged with shapes and tones and feel, dozing I realize I want to try to write it, why I don't know, why stop to take a snap, but that it holds a bit of truth, of reality, a moment not to lose; notebook open pen in hand, and it's gone as quick as it came, it's gone like a hobo, grabbing the next train to anywhere, that was then, was there; strange to feel it come and leave so fast, like a life I guess, like a life more or less, yes, like a glance or glimpse of things receding in the distance brings; everything grows smaller till it disappears, now a part of someone else's store, for a brief while seeming to have, forever and ever, time for more; in truth no time at all for the one or the other, abandoned in a valley, each now alone, without the other traveling on or staying, till time comes to an end 2007 October 6/7