It’s a catastrophic misunderstanding between hope and despair. Tears well up while her heart is beating as she stares into his eyes so sincere and trusting. Just a photograph of a stranger she once knew, when hopes and dreams were the measure of a day. 

A horse galloping and a bird flying across a canyon. Ominous sounds emanate from the valley once devoid of any wild life.

A schoolyard, a city Street and a empty Subway car filled with voices from the past, the future.

A cliff, a lake, divers and some rays of sunshine peeking through the blinders, in a cabin, in the shadows, where no cars drive and no planes fly. Campfire is the electricity, water is from the river a mile away. Connections are made between two people, flesh upon flesh.

Echoes string across the deserted sands, of a dry planet, from another place and time.

Lost! Hearts and souls, hold hands and say, “it’s alright, it’s alright, let’s right these wrongs. These catastrophic  misunderstandings of love and lust, these lies, disguised as hopes and dreams. Emotional misers wander around searching…while love starved lovers sit waiting to be found. In a hotel room overlooking La Mujer Dormida, in Mexico a forgotten doll lays on the floor behind the curtain while an old man drinks his bootleg tequila from a metal cup…the sun sets somewhere while he closes his eyes. 

Desperation for the currency that can save lost souls, walking down a deserted highway across the desert of stones, rolled across from up above. Stones, rocks and boulders falling down like fire from somewhere up above – clouds with no silver linings.

A sound, a sign, a voice calling home – loneliness can feel so lonely at times.  Did she even read the letters that he had written and sent with such abandon? Can she feel his pulsating heart? Too many misunderstandings in their words can have catastrophic results – breakdown in communications between connected lovers.

Stare across that platform and plant your feet upon the third rail. If you time it right you can make it home. Back to the time where you came from. Where cloudy days are a respite from the searing sun and the rain will guide a seed into a seed once again.

A breeze, splashing aridity, tires rolling atop the asphalt, an airplane thousands of feet up in the sky as some birds are conversing in whistles, in a tree without leaves, perched proudly towards the horizon where a cat is wailing as a light turns on inside a third floor apartment.

A lone man, the miser, he pulls up a shade and opens the window as the street light flickers and turns off. He stares across and wonders just what it is he is left with – wonders why he never could laugh or cry true. So many layers of protection – he stares across…

Across the way there is a highway, beyond the highway are mountains in the shape of a lady laying on her side as if watching as the town awakens. He wonders if she sees him…

A tap, tap, tap as newspapers are thrust onto the porches one by one by one, by a kid on a bike wearing a backpack filled with the news of the day – listening to Robert Plant from two tiny earphones. He passes a man carrying fire and wonders if it scars his hands or if he’s safe from harm.

It’s a catastrophic misunderstanding between compromise and determination. As a man walks up the road, up the stairs to his office on the 2nd floor, where lifetimes pass. The lunchtime crowds walk hypnotically through the streets and back to the screen staring competition.

A life filled with compromising, smiles, tears and prescription medicines. A short walk towards the coffee shop and suddenly the moon has appeared, above the mountain, in the shape of a woman on her side, watching over this town…

 

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