Posts for June 13, 2021

Face in the clouds 
a gorgeous geisha
disappears before my eyes.

You’re gorgeous! 
No! You’re gorgeous!

My twins, age 4
shout sweet insults

wiggle waggle
wiggle waggle

time flies by

taken back again by
the sight of a tree

how I tried to sway
precious Lil

the new house was better than a farm
since, like Land Before Time
star shaped leaves-tree stars
could be seen right outside her window.

Don’t eat them though Littlefoot!
(Lil was a plant eater)
Those aren’t tree stars 
she side eyed me,
unconvinced

Old building
humiliated by swollen words
lost its ambition:
arthritic hinges
and rheumitic windows
stall the pulse.

Can we begin again?

Can we go back to 1997?

Can I tell you a secret about me

and then kiss you,

maybe for the only time?

Can we go back to that night

at my apartment?

Can I tell you

what I was too scared to

then?

Could you overcome

your shyness

to tell me

maybe you felt the same?

Would you give me

one night

if we went back there again?

Are you willing to take a different path?

Are you willing to trade

your history

for what could have been

what would have been

what should have been?

If I could see you again,

the way we both were.

would you accept my invitation

to the love of your life?

Would you let me kiss?

Would you let me taste?

Would you give me the chance

to ruin your faith?

If we could pick up

where we left off,

would our story go on?

Would it have a new ending?

If I saw you again,

would our feelings be the same?

There’s so many things

I wish I could know.

But I gave that chance up

years ago.

If I could travel through time,

you’d be the first one I’d see.

So I could ask you

if you ever wanted me.

I can’t deal with

the fact

that you’re gone.

While your memory

lingers on and on.

Come back to me in visions.

Come back to me in dreams.

Come back to me, baby.

Don’t leave me at the

edge of paradise

without you.

A day without you is a lifetime of stillness 
I put myself on pause 
I somehow equate your absence to my own regression
Telling myself stillness is the abrupt awakening 
I will not resume until the day I see you as my own 
Even then I know the current will never push again 
I am forever a still pond 
~without you

Today you would have been ninety-one!
I did not go to church this morning, 
I spent too long in the tub reading, 
thinking about how to spend this day.

No tears today, only happy thoughts. 
We worked a while at the cat shelter, 
tidied away all the camping gear,
and cleaned up many things left undone.

We watched a new show, walked the park, 
and ate a good supper, capped off 
with ice cream and cake in your honor,
speaking our thoughts of you, all good things. 

Solid thumping now

An Atlantic hurricane forms
and threatens Mexico.
I walk a long walk
around the neighborhood. 

America is open again. Norms
are the order of the day so
I walk
alone through the wood

toward Dale Hollow Lake.
Perhaps I will swim.
Perhaps tourist will own the water,
but that alone is reason enough

to celebrate.
America is open again.

His memory stirs
in times of sleeplessness
reliving moments of mourning,
hours of regret and sorrow
turning through the eve
on a salt saturated pillow.
He knew he couldn’t tell
anybody but God.
Who else would understand?
Who else would care?

Dew chugger in a
tailgating Silver-ay-do
late for Sunday school 

A breeze like no other came through
On a sunday nap
After such a hot forecast
The water got turned off last night
Something about a main line
The tech came and fixed it
It was about one in the morning
The darkness surrounded us
As we watched him turn the lock
Through our bedroom window
The dog woke me up
About 8:30 this morning
And we ate turkey bacon and french toast on the porch
I didn’t even bother to take it out of the pan
Two forks is enough
We talked to the neighbor
Then came inside for a day of anime watching
And relaxing
Our pressure is finally all the way back
And the we’re under a boil water advisory
We went out for an evening walk
As the sun was going down
Tomorrows Monday
And I really need to work