This dismal face softens
And flushes with just a touch
Of life.

Turmoil broke like a fever
And trickles of security
Bled through the cracks.

I lit a lamp instead of sitting
Here in the darkness I've become
So accustomed to.
Lukewarm light isn't much
But it's enough to go on.

My heart never stopped but now
It's beating with a purpose.
Not one of affection,
Not one of intimacy,
But for the pursuit of living
I've been putting off for so long.

Maybe I'm fine. Maybe everything's fine.

This Colorado song
Means nothing without
You here.
I'd give back
Every mountain
Just to hold you near.

I may be silly
And my head may be
In the clouds,
But I feel I'm
Lost in a crowd
Without you around.

This Colorado sky
Seems pointless
Without your song,
And smiling at
Every sunrise
Suddenly feels so wrong.

But I'm sure I'll forget you;
You'll be a memory
From long ago.
Like the time I spent
On a train
Breezing through Colorado.

Hazy summer dreams of Independence Day,
Sitting in a field and an alcove of trees
Watching fireflies and fireworks
With nothing but a peace pipe and the pleasure
Of each other's company.

Four in the morning blues
Writing music inspired by
The light reflecting off her box wine,
Bird feathers and new frontiers.
Four in the morning band practice
Where the kitchen was filled with
Jaw harps and nose flutes and ukuleles.
She hated the fact that the string bassist
Parked right in front of the fridge.

Sun-drenched days of exploring
And picking mulberries from the
Fallen tree at the creek.
They tried to make pen ink from it,
Once.

Dreams of open mic nights with
Milkshake stouts and summer sweat
But never once complaining
Because the air felt so electric
And full with the sound of kindred souls.
Place closed down since then,
But she won't forget the time she was
Asked to stay on stage when her set was done.

Maybe they're all romanticized, but
These memories stick like push pins
In her mind, in her heart.
There was something more authentic
About it all -
All those days of watching
Fireworks and fireflies.
Something real, and true.
Something changed, shifted in the universe.

Maybe it was her.

Hair trailing like jet streams
As tiny shoes skim the grass.
Don't know where she gets
The breath in her lungs to
Keep her going.
She'll need it for all the cushion
It'll give when she crashes into
Her daddy's arms to have it
Squeezed all out of her.

                                                It's always the moments few
                                             and far between

Keep low, her momma said,
When the sirens wail and they're
Shining that light through the blinds.
She keeps real still when red flashes
Blue even now.
Holds her breath and waits for
The light to blind her again.
Just a habit.

The drawings looked so funny
When they were done.
A sort of dark humor with the
Look of shock scribbled on her face
In cerulean blue.
Never liked blue but the shade
Always caught the girl's eye.
Her momma deserved that color.
Her daddy's car was colored orange.

They thank heavens it wasn't red.

"You can't Change it.
You can't Control it.
You can't Convince him.
But you can Cope."

Told her to repeat it like a mantra;
Post it on a wall
Let it spill like a holy verse
Until you believe it.
She wasn't one for God anyway.

                                                But what if I wanted to try?

Air around him isn't so stale now.
Frowned upon to have a beer
At an alcoholic's wake.
She wondered if this is how it would
Have smelled.

She barely knows the people in this
Room.
They're chatting about church and
How he was so great.
But she'll bet her last dollar
That they hadn't seen him sober
In years.

Hell, neither had she.
                                                *All I can do now is cope.