I’ve always been wandering
In circular sadness

Little good
it does you
To love an empty chair
To drink your morning coffee
With only the curling vapor
To wrap mysteries around your loneliness
Your hand that’s filled with the lively fingers
Of a rapturous ghost
Feels nothing but despair
What love can exist
In a precarious memory
Teetering on the precipice
Of yesterday and today
Little good it does you
To fall in love with air

The problem tends to be that
your heart doesn’t seem to care.

A tender confinement
Like winter branches strewn across
a summer memory of bloom
Withering deeply in reality
Lightly growing in memory of June
Freedom-
Hope springs
As the seasons move  
The frost of solitude
Transforming in the quietude
of the robust embrace
the promise of change.

I saw someone I thought was you
Creeping from the crevices of yesterday
Navy cap over your hair
Quietly walking into a store
I am certain you never existed
Disappearing like a bad magic trick…

I guess I held on to a fantasy
And I kissed a dream
All I actually saw
was a specter tonight and
He was a really
pretty ghost
As dark as the moonlight

I laid in suspension of your breath
Like the Golden Gate bridge in the night
Traffic gliding across softly like a whispered promise
Lights lustrous as silver and gold
listening to the music of perpetual business
Then there was silence
And
My empty room
Just me
and endless miles traveled
To end up nowhere again

I looked at my old window
Slathered in sun
Remembering the ice
Swimming across the glass
In days long gone
The sound of your voice
A gentle whisper
Like the winter wind
Roaring as fire
Now drowning in memory
And patient desire
Melting