September 20, 2014


he's close to me,
walking by my side.
He sees
where I am going,
in my dreams
I cannot hide.
He answers every question,
when he takes me
for a ride,
knowing all
about my past,
where my future lies.
He asks little in return;
if only I'd follow him,
there's so much
I could learn.

September 16, 2014


Your mother
was disappointed
we didn't want a priest.
The sacrament would
be lost, she said,
leaving us in love
without god,
his guidance never 
crossed our minds.

Our small group
gathered instead
at city hall. 
We exchanged simple vows,
forsaking all others
until the end of time,
the judge hurried us out;
it was over
by half past nine.

Those who were there
have since moved on,
his honor dead 
these thirty long years,
your mother sanctified
and in her grave,
my best man
forever disappeared.
No one remembers
except you and me,
the day you said
you would be mine.

September 12, 2014

Someday Soon

Flash flood warnings 
blink on my phone;
rain is coming,
I'll have to look
for higher ground.

Everyone worries
over drought, disease,
terrors unknown;
no one wants
to end up trapped, 
water rising
all around.

There's no escaping
where we're born,
in a world eager
to take us down,
some together,
some alone;
it's time we learned,
we might still
be able to live,
someday soon.

September 9, 2014


I like the love
found hanging
in second-hand
stores, under
a patina built up
over years long ago, 
etched with ecstasy, 
not just tried on
and peeled off
as in our age,
squeezed between 
everything else
we do poorly,
but still remembered
by some so very well,
from a time
before we were born.

September 5, 2014

Blue Water

I was warned
we must cut back,
before we all go dry. 
Rain is falling
somewhere else,
from someone else's sky.

Hot wind blows here 
day and night,
flowing freely
through my dreams;
in the dark
it's just like you,
never what it seems.

The blue water
on all our maps 
is really desert sand,
covering the sidewalk
as it drifts, becoming
barren land.

September 2, 2014


Summer's over,
Labor Day looms,
kids are heading
back to school.
I want to tell them
it's all a trick,
but let it go,
watching them slowly 
cross the street,
they've all got things
they must do.

At night there's
silence in the stars,
so far apart,
each one twinkling,
making its own
space and time, forever 
and ever doing its job, 
keeping us guessing
as they shine.

Down here
we're still
spinning, reeling,
feeling each other
in the dark,
looking for clues
of any kind.