songbird on
the wire
pecks at
sky..
and flies into
a hole-
to bewilderment
of crows
on hydro
pole.
spiritual evolution
a thinker
on park bench
stares down
at shoes,
wondering if the
view from
above
offers any
clues,
guy passing
by drags
feet..
through a
puddle,
and doesn’t see
thinker–
lost
in his
own bubble.
stippled ceilings-
prickly feelings in
the depths,
quickened
breaths,
headlights gloss
a window
pane-
sweat stains an
unmade
bed.
the loaded
mouth-
a heavy
head
above heart plump
with blind
regret,
the softest
tongue-
a mind
restrained,
heart calmed and
free to beat
again.
she waltzed into
my thoughts..
then took
a bow,
if only i had
the drive
to
dance
that i do
now.
a guilty moment
met with
shame
for last place
finish
in
game day
race,
but i did
show-
no need to
hide..
my face.
please don’t tell
my future,
i like a good
surprise,
do feel free to
read my
palms..
but know i don’t
follow
straight
lines.
man in the
road
turns to ask if
i’ve seen
her-
if we passed
on the
way
out
of town,
i turn to the
man..
and point down
the pathway
to a phantom in
blue bridal
gown.
etched in parched
bark..
where nobody
can see,
is a bond for
the ages–
deepest ring
in old
tree.
shy to touch
hands..
in the presence of
strangers,
and
so eager
to
find space
for expressions
more grand.
hands in the garden 
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