Natural history

Natural history.
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I wish I noticed the moss upon the grey painted steel
all the time,
not just when I was “artistically inclined.”
That sun lifted golden green.

I wish as the floor creaked I would notice
the bead of moisture upon the woods varnish,
resting peaceful upon a long felled skin.
My footfalls are guided slowly away.

I wish I saw the clouds dancing and took note
more often than I do.
My steps slow as I walk beneath them,
yearning for their music to call me to.

An old man talks of a time
on a black and white screen.

“Ian look at this, its interesting, its history”
I stand here in some nameless museum,
smiling so as not to offend the old
I look briefly from a dim window…

A brown leaf drifts by, slowly
“Ian look at this, its interesting, its history”
the leaf moves out of my view,
my eyes close with a smile

“I love real history dad”