Day 208: Painted Evenings

Some days in between stealing few hours for work and teaching, time will just fly. As I realized that I needed to come back to my writing, I kept thinking about the little things this time of my year, around me and that which gets to influence me. My late posting are like curated pieces of the hours that have slipped away and in between all of the chaos, somewhere somehow I get to write, I get to summarize. My story tellers and painters and writers of the day, even in odd hours let us simply create. Here's to the painted outside outside my window sill, the glasses are glazed with sunlight that slowly fades. And I string words from memories, the paintings this evening paints.

Painted Evenings
Painted walls and corridor halls
Benches filled with people and this fall
And cloudy skies as though the heaven cries
Reminders of the fading sunlight

For all this is mellow & held together on a page
That seems to pass on but that is never aged
Musings and little things I keep and collect
The things I pay heed to, while some I neglect.

Wind chimes that are tied to my door
And some scattered groceries lay on my floor
I will get to rearrange them tonight
As I make my tea, I will put them out of sight

My late postings of some days
Are captures by hours and held up to be late
Because my own possessions are undefined
For now they are just writing I get to write