I carved a moment in time
with the finest words I could find,
and yet the voice fell flat
hardly deserving of the attention
I had hoped it to garner.
So I sat in the autumn stillness
cradling a cold whiskey sour
while the sun sank behind the trees
and the words continued to race
frantically around in my head.
The chill air was heavy and still
as the pointless echoes sank,
pooling at the base of my heart,
even as orange and red and yellow
seamlessly streamed across the horizon.
When the beaded glass was empty
I set it down clinking beside me
and waited for the words to come
but there was only silence now,
and I smiled at last.