rough edge

i smooth the edges
of a dark person
slowly, like
the brush of a fine comb,

a sweet word
about his smile
a quick pat on the shoulder
during his brief,
tepid dialogue
about evil,
and mankind

i watch a child
smile at the end of the slide
and his mom
smiling even bigger
clapping at the bottom

i soothe his sharp tone
with an offering to share
my chocolate

i don't like to share
but do anyway

soon he smiles too
his lecture now an anecdote
about his cat

the corner of your heart

i head south
east
towards your house
you're next to me
under the sky
translucent blue
skin so thin
your heartbeat
pumps red
through your chest

tomorrow
the sun will rise
i'll greet it
and wish it was you
but you are gone
forever

and i am here
i hold on to
your pale skin

it's locked away

apple picking

autumn's crisp apples
whisked away by families
in cinnamon air

here

today i travel
with one paddle
my other hand
is for you

the water's calm,
the sky
a twinkling blue

no memory
haunts this day

perfect with its
round yellow sun
its straightly
painted green grass


we float
happy here
on still water

Everything good

Everything good
Begins in autumn
Holding hands
Surrounded by crisp air
Open minds and hearts
Celebrating

Colors
Pumpkins
Apple trees

The relentless world
Softened by candy
And the laughter
Of pirates and monsters
Ghosts and princesses
Merry in their parade

rose petal

when the day comes to a close
and nothing's left
but a single rose
the last petal flies away
lightly like the summer's breeze
and lands, warmly on a
tall woman's arm
in another town

she wonder's who is out there
playing she loves me, loves me not
she stares, with longing brown eyes,
a far, faraway stare, the kind
that wants to end but won't

he approaches from the corner
and catches her eye

her stare becomes a smile
they stay like this for a while

You

you steal my breath
when you speak

invade my soul
with secrets deep

attach to my mind
a freakish leech
that drains blood
and takes light
fills me with
a lonely plight

and I, I build
a sand water castle
as tall as me

quiet birds perch
at the top

together, we wait
for you...

for you to
walk through us

the darkness

sometimes i think if you died
i wouldn't care at all

i'd stare coldly into a blank wall
and see nothing

the rain would freeze
when it hit my skin
my crisp skin would crack

i wouldn't feel it
as i crumbled

from my puddle
i'd look up
and thank the sun

a brave face

time wears thick
on my heavy glasses
as they sink
deep into my forehead
drawing a line

engraved
it sits in silence
awaiting release

the pillow lets me rest
the pillow lets me breath
the line dissipates
I floats upon
a midnight cloud

the clock strikes 6
my pumpkin is a car

my stoic line returns
to face a new day

a possible book starter?

the door slams behind her
she, in tears and in a fruitless fit of effort,
attempts to catch her breath

hunched on the stoop
with no railing
her back leans against nothing
but cold air
her bottom
frigid on snow and cement

frozen tears now gather
and meet her nose
a stranger hands her a tissue

a picture of her

the best image of her
is turned upside-down

it looks out to the sea,
frothing and waving
with the rhythm of change
and the sound of foam

it searches for a stable place
her frame rattles... then shakes
and struggles to reach the shore
holds on to the wave's tip
once again...frame flips

the sea is calm
it fights to be free

her face, upside-down again
and beautifully awake
embraces the turmoil
of the heavy sea

she is you, and you are me
we move through the
choppy waters, we hold hands
we shape each other
with the sand

the comfort of the unknown

i don't remember
our last good-bye

on your porch
as the wind scolded us

or in tears
by the front door
as I tearfully angered
at your news

or on your couch
as our eyes met
with a fervor
our bodies ignored

i remember the stars
the way you carried
me over a puddle
so that I could stay dry

at least until
our last good-bye

i don't remember
because it wasn't our
last
it couldn't be
and if it is
it is better
i have memories
to wander in

the time

the time has passed
to dwell on hearts - broken
by wanderlust
broken
for wanderlust

the time has come
to love
to count the years
before they go
and our bodies
trepidate
as our last breath
is whisked away
by life

the time has passed
for hate
for despair

the time has come
to care
for each passing second
as if it were a small baby
crying for milk 

September

September's promise
Scribbled, passed, and crumpled falls
Into the wrong hands