December 18, 2014

Delivery


We're still waiting
for the gift
you promised,
the one you said
we would receive.
From far off,
I see the truck 
approaching,
stopping here,
as in a dream.

The driver knows
we will be home,
waiting to accept
the package
he delivers every day.
We hear him
outside, wanting in,
having learned so much
about us,
how we got here,
where we're going,
though why
we were chosen,
he can't say.

December 15, 2014

My Mistake


No one knows
why we're here,
dragged kicking
and screaming
all the way.
Looks like we'll all
be leaving soon,
anyway.

Maybe I'll be going
somewhere new
with someone 
I've not met.
We might even
be on our way now,
haven't our plans
been set?

I don't remember
who we were,
before dreaming
this dream
we can't escape.
Please don't tell me
why we came,
it might have been
my mistake.

December 11, 2014

Nightstand


On the nightstand
I hear my watch,
its faint ticking
reassuring. 
Wound long ago,
it's still going,
always waiting,
calling now
for me to follow
into silence,
until we finally
reach the morning,
a watchful moon 
our only witness,
traveling alone
through the dark
of time.

December 7, 2014

Cardiology


My doctor has
a model heart.
I stare as he slowly
takes it apart,
its valves and chambers
so perfectly formed,
arteries and veins,
nothing is worn.

He says my symptoms
aren't serious at all,
though he's never spent
any time with you.
I take his prescription
for another drug,
make an appointment
for sometime next year,
wonder if ever
I'll be coming back here.

December 4, 2014

Like New


They say the rain
is coming today,
or maybe it was
yesterday.
Drunken clouds 
darken the sky,
big drops promise 
to soak us through,
no one knows
the reason why.
Everyone says
we'll be okay,
though I'm not sure
of the rain at all.
Finally the air
becomes so still,
and everything seems
to glow like new,
as soon as the rain
begins to fall.

December 1, 2014

Bad Lie


My father never 
broke eighty,
his ball not going
far enough,
forever lost
somewhere in the rough,
rolling away from the cup
right into the water.

We watched him
come slowly to rest,
buried deep
in an earthy trap,
each stone 
marking partners
who'd already
played through,
scores visible
just under their names,
welcoming him at last
into their club,
just as though
he had real game.

He was content
to play along,
showing off 
his sad collection 
of minor trophies,
including me, not knowing
we'd soon be discarded
when he was gone,
all boxed up,
like father, like son,
much closer now
than ever before.