Humid
slash of the Milky Way
in the void
while the bugs call
vibrating
with purpose
family gathered
around a campfire
every single thing
I need
I’ve learned the proper way to grip a pair of pliers.
After every apology, I pull another tooth from my bleeding mouth
& place it on the altar of used-up chances,
an offering.
You decline.
Rows full of seats
In a dark room
Silence fills
Until laughter erupts
A cinematic masterpiece—
When did everyone stop clapping at the end of a movie?
Underneath a familiar night sky
In Moon, Kentucky, with the stars above
We gathered around a fire
Laughed and talked and cooked
Made new memories to look back on
Shared dreams and aspirations
Hopes for the future and for our children
A time to cherish and celebrate
A time we will always remember
A time we will forever hold dear.
I’ve reached that point in my life
where I can’t see far away,
and I can’t see up close.
The optometrist tells me
I need bifocals,
but calls them progressives
as if that would somehow
soften the blow.
It’s no blow to me,
this aging of my body.
I like this version
better than the ones before.
hold my hand along the midway
waltz with me past the carousel
smile in time to its calliope as we
toss rings at slender soda bottles,
ride the swing round and round
until, giddy, we fall madly in love
I remember a silence
filled with chirping insects,
a far off screech owl on
silent wings among the
white pines.
A constant rhythmic
humming of spring peepers
occasionally seen, bright eyes
a glow on the tree bark
of the maple in the front yard.
Wind in the leaves,
a whip poor will call
but no cars, no air conditioners
overwhelming the peace
of natural symphonic
night music.
Silence as delicate as
the clear black sky
sparkling with stars or fireflies,
one fading into the other.
I remember the distant
heat lightning, illuminating
a summer evening,
soundless and magical.
I remember silence
and peace.
KW
6/28/24
i’m always riding shotgun in your roommates car
i’m always crying because all of my favorite songs are ours
he’s in the backseat and you’re always driving
you won’t even bum
one cig or a stick of gum
so you can’t owe me anything of yours
we both know i’m not the one
my food stuck to the paper
like i stuck to your side
you paid my way but
you wouldn’t stay i tried i tried i tried
once you cracked two eggs into the same pan
sometimes i think i’m still your biggest fan
i didn’t like onions until you caramelized them for me
i can’t do anything without thinking of you it’s so embarrassing
if i say i’m eating for two i mean cold leftovers of me and you
whether the glass is empty or full it’s still only half
and i’ll always gladly take the scraps