Monday, January 28, 2013

Change of Season

The rain came in
my sleep heavy as draft
horses wading through
golden fields of barley
honey amber and sweet.

I rose as dreamers will
sometimes, walked out
among late adonis blues
and irises while the fading
sepia moon was just meeting

Orion striding along the last
rise before the wide ocean,
the last month before the fall
when rain returns
and the world grows

a little quieter, a little older,
colder still. My lost true
love breached the sky
where the rain comes in
and this sleeping mind

remains forever
seeking summer.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Star Gazing

I sat and watched,
left-over stars
shoot across my window
as the kettle sang
me softly to sleep.

Friday, September 26, 2008


Did you know when those words
escaped your lips they were not
words at all rather a breath
released, a tensing of the voice
box then a running start
like a child taking
a first dive off the board
but the water is just as cold
and the lie at the bottom
is as cold though being there
beneath the water
you can’t hear this heart
or see this sorrow, there is
only the illusion and it is hard
to tell which of us
is drowning.

Thursday, June 26, 2008


"How can you taste green?" she asked with a mixture of sneering and unabashed curiosity. "Green is a color, you can't taste colors." She had such a self-congratulatory look on her face, I simply couldn't resist, "What? You never ate a few Crayolas?"

Her sand freckled nose wrinkled up. "Certainly not. I am not a moron."

I laughed. She took offense. "I have a Masters degree from a very well respected Ivy League school. I can speak in italics too. So that means that I am not a moron either." I stuck my tongue out at her playfully. She giggled.

"Well, if your school was covered in ivy then I guess you had plenty of green," she observed and nodded her head with complete confidence.

She had no idea what a wonderful observation she had made. I giggled and nodded. I thanked her from the bottom of my heart. She plainly didn't understand, but she didn't need to understand. She happily scooped up her yellow pail and skipped over the tide sodden beach having clearly forgotten me and my foolish assertions.

I have always believed the best thing about children under the age of eight is how quickly they forgive. When you find yourself alone with a broken heart, the best thing you can do is plant yourself on a beach teeming with small children and wait. When one draws near, make an absurd assertion, and let the healing begin. Her name was Lily. My mind thought of lily pads and lily pads are green so I said, "Have you ever tasted green?"

Sunday, May 13, 2007


Kiss long,

whisper with a crazy little hiss.

Heaven feels safe,

white soft pillow.

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