wrote an old fashioned
letter,
with an old pen from
the drawer,
to an old friend
from times
before–
we left home
for more.
mindfulness
she poses by
window,
casting sharp
angles,
whispering shy
things,
tugging on dress
strings,
i laze by the
fire pit
and gaze at her
plush wings.
emptied
of conversation-
i listen to
efforts
to keep up with
neighbors,
to get the last
word in,
but truth is that
i too
just wish to
be seen.
a snow owl
with ice
eyes,
a treetop ‘neath
ash skies,
ol’ smoke stacks
inhaling
the sharp
air..
impaling.
desire’s eyes bleed
through their
lids,
a heaving heart beats
through its
ribs,
lights dim–
and shallow breaths
quicken..
as endorphins
kick in.
softened thoughts
in genteel
mind,
a smoker’s cough,
but more
refined,
no cage
bars..
to
hide behind–
in light of day,
can’t help but shine.
gracefully stepping
from canoe-
your swan
ankles
swallowed
by sea,
as downy wings
rustled
like leaves in
love’s
tree.
was that wave
aimed at
me..
or someone
behind?
held the door out
of pity
or
just to look
kind?
offered help for
the thank
you
or just to give
blind?
i’d be grateful, were i
in the right state
of mind.
peel off
a little sky
to peer into the
other side–
unless too
shy
to behold what’s
beyond
bounds of one’s
own lawn,
i understand
the fear..
it keeps my eyes
down here.
a wave to packed bus
rushing
away,
the lovelorn
shuffle
home..
to crash on
couch..
to revisit the
hours..
to loosen my
belt-
and smell summer
flowers.
hands in the garden 
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