Rubble (day 2731)

Could it be I’ve lost my way
Deep down inside the tunnel?
Or could it be a mystery
Unfolding in front of me?
Either way, I’m sure to fall
Bruise a bone or two,
Get lost amongst
What I cannot see,
And fight my way still forth:
Amongst the rubble,
Debris, chaos,
Henceforth a state of decay.

Lead the Way (day 2723)

These trees have begun to speak in many languages
To my ears that are listening to silence.
Each time Orion shines, Owl begs for a lover
While my tears dry upon my cheek
– Sap dries upon each tree’s wound,
For no wound is too deep to heal
– Though frost strikes into depths I cannot feel anymore.
Dog enjoys this silence, he hears it all
He hears what I cannot hear
Though my eyes they fight fire with his.
I leave my footsteps alone
And find a new way home, trees lead me there.
This treeline I never made yet live upon every day
Grows against my territory like Winter against Fall,
I have not become used to it
Eagerly entering into the darkened shire
With my heart freely beating against my lips
That keep pace with a dog, yet fearless
And listening to trees lead the way.

Lead the Way by Ned Tobin

Pencils (day 2651)

Tracked time to lose myself
Two pencils and a measure
Which broke down each snapped line
Dull blades and drill bits.
Like settled dust
The wind blew over untacked down recycling
Snow began to fall
And the ground I had become familiar with
Turned hard and markedly frozen

Rhythm (day 2643)

About to burst from the seams
Of jubilance and mirth
About to overflow
Happiness and cheer
About to fully bloom
A season’s fresh outlook
About to hold embrace
Like a separated singular
About to miss a crack
For every seam’s been filled

And my moon holds your moon
And we watch our moons
Dance a dance our eyes wished they were
For separate they lock
Calloused rhythm of time
To fall in to
Equinox one day.

Hard Work (day 2615)

I’ve sweat the whole day through
Effort for my back
Hands are feeling like they’re stiff
From lifting heavy loads
Eyes are closing as I think
Seat calls me dear
And in my hand, a quenching beer
Which soon shall make me fall
Asleep with happiness enthroned
So I can begin again the ‘morrow.

The Old School House (day 2565)

I dream often of the love we once shared
Often we’re walking down the steps
To the Sea, to the sand and wind
Where we shared lunch so fondly together.
I dream of silly conversation in a rented car
Where you showed me the house
You were raised in
Next to the old school house you played in.
I think of the way your hair came down,
The blues of your eyes as they stared into mine
Sitting in your old but geand chair,
I can only imagine you were wondering what I had planned.
We’d walk through the graveyard with your dog
That quickly adopted me
A walk I enjoyed finding names I had never known of.
It was here that the ghosts came to me,
Black top hats and leather soled shoes
That met us, dignified with a long fur coat
Set to ward off the coming fall colours.
I dreamed here, even then,
Moreso than I do now.
I hurt then moreso than I do now,
But the sorrow is still inside
When I remember what had been
And what, in my foolishness,
Let fall softly away like the shirt I never saw you wear.

Back Endings (day 2283)

I never wanted to fall apart like this
Leaving pages bent and pencils broken
My back pages are written upside down
And my back pockets are filled with memories
That keep reminding me I’ve gone away.
Rusty backstops echo number five
From a once was now gone away
And we might send a letter
To remind you we’re far from you are home.
I close my eyes and wind lays your whispers
Upon my hardly kempt whiskers
With leaves blowing too early now
For autumn to be upon us,
Yet every breath I hear coming towards me
Leaves traces of my sadness
Rolling along to the tune of the trans-Canada
Like coyotes howling in the night
Reminding me you’re far away.
But I don’t want to say goodnight
I don’t want to wipe the tears
That cool my evening breeze,
I want to take back my endings
I never meant to write down
In a love poem I never meant to send,
No, I want to listen to the stars
Until connection has been made
And my back pockets hold bits of paper
Your pencils wrote to me.

Back Endings by Ned Tobin

Ode to the Apple (day 1914)

I walk the orchard with eyes so wild
Heart so strong and free
I look towards where you fall from
Then bob back to where you’re from.

A-joy I see as each new leaf
Spreads out with all it’s cheer
And my heart leaps at every blossom
An orb of what’s setting free.

Into my hand I hold on to thee
Like miracle of child birth
Soon to be returned to earth
My footsteps weave through the orchard.

Ode to the Apple by Ned Tobin