Secretely (day 2349)

Secretly I whisper to the eyes that hold but little space for me
An awareness that belongs not to my soul of desire
But to a lost alarm clock beckoning for another hour
A window catches a blinking light somewhere in the horizon
While a cat sadly roams about the hall with a limp it cannot heal
Desolation is a lingering affair amidst night before’s busy streets
Where once fireworks begged for mercy in the air like dragons nightly play
So I shall talk at odd volumes to hear my voice again
Though no memory shall recall the words that secretly danced
Amidst uneven sidewalks of a forgotten despair.

Worn Sun (day 2246)

I watched the sun set today
My worn legs took me to the edge of the world
Where I ran my finger over horizon lines
That achingly waltzed a deep pink hue of gold.
The last drops of sunlight are transfixing
They speak of ancient willows blowing in the wind,
Of ancestors who worked fields with their hands,
Of patio chairs rocking back and forth
Transfixed by the first sips of a perspiring cider.
Then, darkness calls;
Outstretched hands tracing my jawline
Caressing my sore back with nimble fingers
Jarring my consciousness with fading memories
Like static visions lifting stars into place
And a wind dying down for rest.

Sunset Field (day 2238)

There’s something here
Deep beneath heavy cigar smoke
And calming chatter of birds
Scattered amidst surrounding forest,
Fields ahead.
A woodpecker finds a hidden beetle
And mosquitoes my soft spots
Along this horizon vista
Of melding clouds
Half lift sunset brown
Leaning on golden white,
Half darkening blue
Of midsummer showers
Layered above the strait.
Couples lazily walk soft beach sands
Hand in hand
Creating memories I still have
That I douse in smoke,
Picnic benches of an earlier gaiety
Sit empty like grazing sheep
Full from a full productive day.
Elm trees, tall and proud
Find last bits of gold
Sun, cooling, has to share.
My lungs find air of a new found density
Promising foliage a cool drink
Bringing an air of calm
Beckoning me: surrender
Depth of heavy breath
As I rock my comfort back and forth
To a tune I’ve not yet written
In cigar dust of sunset field.

Bouquet (day 2233)

As each toe touch shimmers gold and let’s horizon shine within
My breath becomes held so dear for I shan’t want to disturb
I see each leaflet of your hair lazing about so free
That my face can feel with each breeze the sensitivity of your back
And this my heart it lifts with ease as goosebumps do grow of
Upon just knowing how we share this stoop, and I privy to your thoughts
So deaf have I become of else walking upon our path
But in your hand you walk up from, a bouquet in your hand.

Softly Cried the Orchid (day 2189)

My shallow scoop has left graceful dents
Upon the eves of my tomorrow;
Pondering a moment here leaves me
Wishing I hadn’t left my tear
So delicately upon your shoulder.

I grew an orchid that cried so softly
When the rhythm of the moon filled
Each crystal chalice with translucent waves
Softly swirling in my hand
Wishing I wasn’t so damn ready.

And as I watched the sun gallop
Over the Eastern horizon from my chair,
I hummed a tune in my favorite key of D
So low it had rumblings of a tumbling dream
Which pressed me between cold sheets for another day to begin.

Hot Rocket (day 2133)

Call it what it is
On a gold line to Maine
Like a hot rocket lit.

You know where you’re going
It ain’t no cruel plan
Pick up where you left off.

Hold strong to live strong
Believe what you do know
Getting in to it to get lost.

Sell it all away
It had it’s day yesterday
Ran out of what to say.

My red line is feeling fine
Horizon line slipping by
Call it what it is.

Ode to a Weeping Willow (day 1765)

Oh my heart if it could be strong
But weeping, and I’m going home.
With your cool breeze rustling
My cool knees in this early spring daze.
Are you really calling out my name?
Or have you decided to plant my seed
Into the horizon with a beautiful sunset
And calling out to the midnight bullfrogs
Who echo deeply off this thick bark peeling.

Night’s Rest (day 1607)

I’m along lines of horizon
Slowly sunk into surrounding hillsides
That luminously cast shadows
Into experiences;
Dock lined shorelines,
Visited all too infrequently
At this ripe hour and season
By speedboats that churn water
In an expedited process of
Annihilating all nature’s fuel
And polluting water masses.
So I’m happy here listening
As straggling Canadian geese
Call and return into formation,
And water gently laps at
Man made structures and flush
Rock lined shorelines
Like a mother gently settling
Her young ones down
For a calm night’s rest.