justwrite 28 january

i am missing those pictures taken out of me out of trees and three or more standing by the good and the loved and above and below the storm clouds the loud shouts of doubts blowing by in the slow air barely contained rearranged like hair on a bare neck the shoulders carrying each step a long time a long line of answers leading up to the question but still and all a lesson no one teaches others no mothers or brothers could stop could drop the cloth could wait for the painting to dry before prying off the loose frame and rearranging the names the numbers the accounting for each drawer and more than i could have imagined and less than i could have hoped and i thought i knew the blue and the true would stay with me the old and the new but i was borrowing and the rain wants to freeze but it can't make up its mind to find just where and there is where we differ where i linger off in doubt in an alternate route certain or at least hesitantly able eager to be stable raving about roving shoving into a different direction to correct the lessons with green ink and when the answers are read aloud i am looking over shoulders to see where these pictures have gone to who is holding them and how are they seen in between fingers folded in cold