Still, saying words towards night.

I'm sitting, watching life on the side-lines

felled by a cold.

Seeing days pass into nights, a sigh describes meaning.

While I, searching

trying to find calm and peace,

inside, my words draw only stares,

or a faint nod of puzzlement.

At alone I see me, my soul fills.

Touch provides ease.

In understanding, paint and words cover the scars (history).

Time moves and we, with something good,

talk to tomorrows.

To be words in the world, free,

helps the world to see.