October 20, 2014


The mailman approaches,
his truck full
of trumped-up bills,
come-ons, flyers.
I've grown old, 
awaiting his arrival.
Each day, he brings
new requests
for my attention:
Do Not Discard!
The Courtesy
of a Response
is Requested.

He stops
at my box 
on the street,
bearer of bad news,
still thinking
it's not personal.
Come closer, I say,
open me up, unfold
my most secret page,
see if I still remember
the reply
you're looking for.

October 17, 2014


They are not 
what they seem,
appearing unannounced 
in our dreams,
looking almost well.
when we first
see them, 
they are simply
playing dead, waiting
for the right moment
to let us in
on their secret,
knowing we are
not ready for what
they want to show,
will never understand
until we take the vow,
are initiated
into the brotherhood,
with more than just
this pledge of sleep,
as they know
we surely will.

October 14, 2014

Breaking Up

Looks like
it was easy
breaking up with me,
just another 
dropped toy
left behind,
really not that much
to trouble your mind.

Now I'm 
all patched up,
can't help but miss 
your lovely touch.
Friends all say
I'm looking tired,
speaking softly,
like someone's been fired.

Still, not even you
will ever get
what happened,
will never know
how I felt so free,
when I heard the message
you left for me.

October 10, 2014


I'm packing
for another journey,
on my way
into another country,
not to be found
on any map,
so well-traveled,
but still unknown.

Everyone awaits
my imminent arrival,
senses my approach,
wants me to enter,
all alone.

I'll show my hosts
the things I've learned
while on the road,
as I unpack,
the cost of each 
becoming clear.

After all
my many stops,
I'll remember none more
than stopping here.

October 7, 2014

State of Mind

I used to think
being old was 
just a state of mind,
so far removed from me. 
But my neighbors
disappear at night, 
are gone by break of day,  
going somewhere 
I can't see.

The youth once trapped
inside my skin
cannot be found;
he's escaped,
and now is free.
When I look
into my face,
there is no trace of him.
The stranger inside
has changed the locks,
and will not let me in.

October 3, 2014


I thought your shoes
were by the door, 
sometimes I see them,
just like before.

They beckon now,
when I say your name,
but we both know
it's not the same.

If I leave mine, too,
when I come in,
they'll all be there
tomorrow, again.