Day 265: New York Stories

My mind and heart are full
Gratitude erupts silently from the reflection of someone else’s mirror
Simplicity of thought is a grace bestowed by God
I realize as my love and I are crossing the bumpy sky
From north to south after a weekend of merriment
In the Apple of my eye
Its big and robust vibrancy and color only rivaled by its ability to entertain
We wine through the days as we whine about our daily quirks
Expressing the inevitable challenges we’ve encountered along the way
Life lessons we’ve come to recognize now that we are out of the classroom
Having those deep, intimate, pretentious New York conversations
Bounced off the pretty, wood-paneled walls of a dimly lit hotel lounge
Realizing that why doesn’t ever have an easy answer
Especially when evaluating the paths that led us to this juncture
Harder spirits pour as the red filled glass is replaced by a clear distiller liquid
Colored by the green of room temperature olives and a glass that requires precision to balance
Questions posed require more careful thought as we’ve ventured into the realm of true truth
Not the color by number pre-filled pictures we paint with passive aggressive hues of politeness
I search for the muse and use my tongue as brush and draw the image I’ve seen in my head
It is a technicolor-less portrait of opinion spread over a canvas of history
A collective recapitulation of events witnessed and interpreted, spoken now in a surround-sound whisper
Envisioned in my mind’s eye and clearly liberated by the drinks consumed
Life interpretations that forevermore will become New York stories
(where they will remain)
Shared in a dimly lit hotel lounge
Remembered across the bumpy sky
On a journey toward the home where the stories began

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