He Sits

 
The seated position of the not quite sitting stance,

that, sat in quiet sentimental silence

sounds only out the sounding of simple solitude.

He sits,

in dark semi lightness regarding lightly

the dull flicker of the box set

as it sizzles static symbols

of simmering background rays and signals

of past days

that neither box sets nor backlit lights

illuminating the semi seated see.

He sits.

Regards the darkened spaces

around which seats the desks and empty places

and which was in such simple times a sight seen,

yet now,

as though of the same nature as stated static

simmering softly over humming screen,

a window of joy that in itself

is nothing but a mirror of ones inner feeling.

He sits,

noticing now the dim dwindle of the ever dropping darkness,

descending where memories do not find mirrors

to show mirages of missing moments.

The darkness drops in the slowly settling sequence of dull days

that leave nothing but empty seats and absent solace.

He sits.