See the music being played, watch as the echoes race across the crowd, see the smiling faces of the listeners who do not dance.

Feel the darkness begin to color the evening blue, watch as the stars surround the moon. A lonely photograph never to be seen again.

Fields with hues of gold and blonde, silence blasting, the flag hanging at half mast for a dead president who once was reviled and in death is beloved.

No cars rushing by, just cows and horses in the barn with an old lady sitting on a chair, on a porch, rocking back and forth.

In the deserted park across the way, there is a swing swinging unoccupied and squeaking loudly. All the benches are empty so it must be the wind, or some visitor from another time or dimension.

I can see… The day is coming on from the East as it does each day. Ice begins to thaw and icicles begin to drip, upon the mixed rock sidewalk, where nobody walks anymore.

Strange strangers strangle across the stable patting the horses as if they were long lost acquaintances.

Lost lovers, long for a time from the past when love was so new and so addicting, and passion the antidote for aching loneliness which pounds away at you silently, like a cancer growth waiting to pounce.

Everything dies, even emotions, just as everything can be reborn over and over again.

In a strange city, with blue skies and a sharp cold breeze, in a park with empty benches and swings that seem to be occupied by invisibles…

It’s all over yet it’s truly just begun.

Sleep tight, kiddo, dream well and think of me tonight… when the guards are overlooking you, when the stars begin to fade and the lost lovers search for those old feelings, in an Italian restaurant, on Prince street, once upon a time…

Chariots of fire, racing to save this world…I hope it’s not too late.