must we talk this
through the
roof..
hangs heaven ready
to cave in..
my brain’s not to
be trusted
true
the heart’s become
the only
part
worth shielding midst
collapse
still beating
though much slower
in this taped off
house of
rats.
spiritual evolution
cold hook embedded,
catch released
without
kiss,
the
ripple
reminder
you’re forever
missed.
the drowners
resurface
to cast one last
gaze
at pond dragging
strangers
still mouthing their
names.
you ‘finger traced’
my chest,
i took it all
back,
you solved
the lie,
i couldn’t
cry,
but tried to keep
flying,
we tumbled through
clouds
into pleasure’s
salivating
mouth.
a humble heap
of leaves,
shaken from home
tree,
some appear nearly
alive,
others bake like bones
of summer,
stripped of pigment
but still
magic,
in tragic but
forgiving
light.
timid twins in
the mirror,
staring at one
another,
would kill to be
the other,
angels cut from
same silk
cloth.
stripped of cheap wood
camouflage,
folded chair in dad’s
garage,
a dusty crate of
god knows
what..
is needed to connect
the dots,
when crayon’s missing
from its
box.
an early morning
moving truck,
mother’s lip stained
coffee cup,
her majesty-
tobacco
queen,
a muffled sigh
in flannel
sleeve,
ledge littered with
fall’s blood
drained
leaves.
last caged bird
of memory
flees.
this season clouds
my vision,
although i pray
in time,
these fall leaves will
look inspiring
in the background
of my mind.
no leaf like
the next,
restless children
of fall-
scattered and
vibrant,
in play or
at rest,
tiny toes flatten
grass,
eyes drift like
clouds
through dream
filled skies,
when grown weary,
we cozy
inside,
no leaf like
the next,
autumn ache
floods my
chest.
hands in the garden 
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