The Porch
Gazing into the distance from a wooden porch. I watch as the cars pass by one by one vanishing into the distance. There are moments that it seems that I am the last human alive. I cherish these moments; time comes to a halt I am finally alone with my thoughts diving into my deepest imaginations. The humidity of this east Texas weather causes my mind to believe I’m on a tropical island. I’m no longer in small town scarce of people; I am now on a beach vacant of life save for the plants and animals. I gaze out at the ocean with its sparkling blue waters and waves that dance provocatively ashore. I sip from a coconut filled with pineapple juice and a hint of apple just to accent the flavor. I feel piece, I feel safe, and I feel comfort for what I wish were eternity for only a minute.
I’m resurfaced to reality by a neighbor’s horn. I’m back now, on the wooden porch watching the cars coming into and out of focus. Time is a contradiction of its self on the porch it moves at three speeds slow, fast, and not at all. The mornings’ slow pace is welcomed with open arms stretch as far as your vision can take you. I enjoy the singing of the birds as a cool breeze flows from east to west its quite tranquil. The speeds at which afternoons on the porch are over are easy to miss only because of the moments time has frozen. The night brings a close to another day on the porch I always feel saddened at this time because I’m unsure of weather or not I will see it again that’s something only tomorrows sunrays can answer.
