Waking up

She can pierce the sky with a sideways glance — leaves scatter in her eyes & with a gust I taste a coconut lime- freckled shoulder painted for Autumn. Then with a smile she reminds the sun to hang a medal on the morning & I memorize the way the light sprinkles delight on her…

I come undone

My favorite sweatshirt has a thread I tug without thinking because my hands need something to do while my mind dives into warmer waters. She blushes when I tell her I like her ponytail hair loosed around her face as if someone creased a ribbon to tie a gift just for me. She smiles when…

Suspended in air

She is dangling in the afternoon like Autumn on the breeze, painting the horizon in her favorite colors. I like to think the purples are just for me as they frame the greens on trees she’s allowed to stay a little longer. October finds a way of fanning its leaves until the hills burn with…

I should buy a cowboy hat

As she counted off her medical history one swollen finger at a time, I saw that feral cat still self-conscious enough to clean herself with her tongue. There are always more cats & daylight doesn’t dim fireworks. I hear them calling me, the sun making an apprentice of the moon but still chasing the dark…

A hazy night

We sat on the beach tracing colors of a sunset that would make poets of us all. She thinks I’m a failed sentimentalist swimming through snapshots of yesterday as memories stretch thinner then molt — sink — settle at the bottom of the sea. I can’t hold my breath as well as I did that…

A night out

The specials hang precariously from the menu as we wait for our drinks or some other memento of the night. Somewhere a gambler’s sullen request for a crown of a different suit threatens to upset the atmosphere before evaporating like vapor, airily passing our server on the way from the kitchen. She says Issac Newton…

August and after

August lacks the willpower to hold its breath through a summer storm. No, the gusts of a petulant season mark time on our window, the rhythm of rain soaking me to tranquility even in the face of ferocity. Red-faced & resolute, even summer must end — I see its breath, I see the wind, I…


The morning starts with yes wrapped in the smell of dawn as it sheds the night star by star A no always stings the throat & those sheer curtains are so inviting The moon reflects on the day star by star We say yes

The tempest

The tempest brought more than rain, sprinkling magic on marble-topped memories that called from a dream still shipwrecked. The sun tries to break the spell but hope flourishes in the light & she enjoys showing off her tan. Though the tide may wash visitors ashore or pull other spirits out of a hat, she drinks…

In the wind

We sing along with the wind as it pampers our skin, seasoned from days in the sun. The leaves rustle in accompaniment as if the evening knew the rhythm already. Perhaps it merely borrows the tune from us, breath tied together on the breeze.

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