I’ll remember you standing still amid a rushing crowd
Twisting and shaping balloons through a morning torrent
A smile you rarely wore, my eyes that barely close.
Miles may push away but memories seem to hold me still
And on those days I find I have little of worth to say
If I were able to hear the comfort of your voice
When standing arms open for our storm to fall...
But you’re never here.
And if she says she can walk on puddles
Without letting them break,
She walks on puddles without letting them break.
I wandered past high grass to the wet ocean shore
Kneeling to scrawl a thought in overcast sand
A name I tried to leave, a beach that holds too many.
Words may whisper by and days find different faces
But on those pages which find my mind speechless
If I were able to keep the clatter of palm trees
When waiting for that cool breeze to claim my silence....
But it never comes.
And if she says she can feel me when the clouds close in
Whether I’m near her or not,
She feels me whenever the clouds close in.
When I’m finished with this city skyline
You’ll need a hardhat for the rain
And if we roll where the current drowns
Let this be the last wavebreak we see.
-Ryan A. Pratt