FALLING AWAY

words I know falling on me from clouds and infinity skies like blizzards of fire or moonlit letters of shadowed memories flowing down reminding, slipping within morning and evening buried in the breath under every sun and moon recalling the moments never to return

IT IS THE END

night, a silent voice   eyes fold satin smooth   chances and memories walk across thoughts to the other side   destiny and legacy hold the cards   as impatience opens another door into a large room of what was lost with a small box of what was found            

LEANING

darkness covers the linen of skin, folding over with day lost, the sky closes out   the feel of sun warm breezes surrender to shadows replacing colors with a flat gray like layers of curtains,   the first call of night leaning into stillness  

FLEETING IMAGE

it was a gray tunnel   there was a man wearing an overcoat and hat   his back toward me walking quickly away, weaving to the sides, heavy steps raising dust from a crimson road   he was joined by a white bird, its wings covering the man   his image lost as the creature … More FLEETING IMAGE

MINDFUL VISITOR

I sense a stranger a cloud without a name half light the other gray   no voice to introduce the spirit without a smile, coat, or hat as it enters my thoughts like a  midnight diner person, sure footed, a table in sight, back to the corner watching for misplaced stragglers, loners and those wanting … More MINDFUL VISITOR

SERVING TWO MASTERS

we awake under rumpled sheets of thoughts the prison of two ideas   lines dissolve between dreams and the mystery of fragmented images   remembering corner shadows and glimpses of the lost and parts of what is never found as we rise from bed becoming the servant to the master of day  

THE LAST PICNIC

scattered at the crossroads a pair of shoes left without a note plastic flamingos broken bottles cigarettes and a purse   cactus cast shadows over sand and rock   the sun moves past the other side of barren hills   cool breezes give flight to paper plates and red napkins   while night blinds the … More THE LAST PICNIC

LOST

The desert   a roar of silence   bland colors crooked shapes life absent   an innocent appearance   tempting footsteps and greedy eyes to wander like dust   random inspecting overturning a stone   looking back or was it there it all looks the same   no water no shade   lost    

SECOND FLOOR

A guitar with a sad sound creates a shadow with a soul a spirit song blending within the air in a room on the second floor overlooking traffic where the usual stick figures battle below within the stream of unremembered faces lacking interest yet directing themselves forward to the store or the corner some returning … More SECOND FLOOR

OVERFLOWING

Water filled words the start of growing dripping thoughts shadows looking for a shape to become a sound   it’s the last part of the best the chance to explain and the reasons lost from silence   the half note becoming complete the message received the gold of knowing the walk not alone the story … More OVERFLOWING