the windshield wiper kiss
broke my wings

slammed on a sidewalk
in the fall

on the ground like this
I fade to ash grey chalk

in my stairway stumble
body and step collides

the bangs and bounces
meet the rug burn slides

as inner chaos flounces
my aches scream inside

rocking in silence

...with no one to hear

streaks mark the skyline in mustard yellow
in peanut butter and milk chocolate brown

shadowing the sand on the shoreline below
sun tosses the ocean tide as light falls down

the moon climbs to the edge of the horizon
glowing between the storm clouds in view

meet me as a rainbow kisses the gleaming sun
with the morning sky dressed in an opal hue

with hazel eyes closed, I inhale and come undone
as my brain fills me inside in color images of you

They say I speak your name too much
and I admit fantasies rules my thought
morning afternoon and
into the wee hours;
in the silence of the night,
your tone sought

if you are the sunshine
blanket me, I'm the sky
my soul seeks your light
outside of the darkness,
flying into flames, I fry

burning inside the rays
of impossibility's hell
bones fall to grey ash
as my soul I sell.

Outside the backyard windowpane
owl's clover beckons a butterfly
to feed in the wildflower meadow

silver tree bark and naked branches
stand lining edges on two sides
songbirds sing symphonies in flight.

Opaque shadows mark the horizon
in a blink, blurs eat blue from the sky
and as clouds circle back sunshine dies

winged creatures grounded, insects too
with no moonlight -no critters can fly,
cicada shrill to a coyote pack's howl

little hairs rise in a goosebump dance.
Heartbeats pound- pulse rate climbs high,
a scream -glass breaks -then silence

purple is devoured inside a chilled fog
as lights 'round the world pass me by,
weep with the willow- sob to the breeze

darkness yanks and dew kisses flesh,
curls, clothes, and soaked skin drip dry.
Body shakes- lips quiver- teeth rattle

my grey view bleeds into ebony,
no Seraphin cradles me in a goodbye,
tunnel lantern holds no oil for the light

too dark to lift me or for us to fly.

drips of oil and water twisting
in the bubbling glass,
nickel spins in orange quarts
citrine gold and brass

copper caramel and platinum
shining tinted on mass
for crypts inside the cemetery
lawn covered by grass

on lot lined in green treetops
yellow meets blood red
marking glass panels stained
and then framed in lead

handmade by a glass cutter
as a salute for the dead
from the people still left living
-aches born with death fed