changing winds
Original poetrty by 
The changing winds,
he was only 22, slept and never woke,
his body as cold as a morning
draped in pre-winter solstice.
And here I am complaining about living.
they fall slowly to the earth,
under the vast blue sky.
One by one till the branches are bare.
The creatures prepare for a sleep so deep,
fattened by the land that preserves.
I squat here deprived of sleep,
chasing dreams on digital clouds.
too many elements in the frame.
Life was simpler then,
when choices & distractions were few.
Convenience overwhelms.
a sublime moment of peace
as I glimpse its cloud like streaks.
The monkey brain, silenced for a wink.
I grabbed a bunch of the latest photos on my iPhone 6 that I'd probably end up deleting, and made a poem. I call it photo dump poetry. Dump your photos an your thoughts.