In this story I always wind up alone
Replay after repeat
Repeat after pause
I cannot slow it down
Shut it off
Or turn the channel
It plays over and over again
Players never different
Mood constantly changing
The end always the same.

To you, my one and only unknown love, I bestow unto you my heart and burning desires.
I've dreamed of our wedding day, and much more to come.
But still with a blank slate, for you, my one and only unknown love.

You inspired me to write, not a muse but a thought
You remind me of a comfort that cannot be taught
A warmth and safety that only you can hold
Your protective embrace never gets old

But for once this warmth is all but forgotten
We may not speak, the bridge may be rotten
This doesn’t mean it’s not loved or burnt
It just means we lost what we learnt

Coming back to the bridge we see what once was
But cannot cross over only because
The bridge and protection has been lost so long
Neither one can see this was where they belonged.

We're walking as the sun begins
Its morning rise behind the trees
Just past our house
Joe and I,
Pond on our right,
Cars to the left,
Hill path curving
Up and out of sight.
Morning smells,
The call of geese,
The morning voice of robins,
Cars rushing,
Loud and soft and loud.

Our morning walk,
The route we know...
And the routine.

We do not talk, he and I,
Alone in our heads,
He with his man,
I with my dog thoughts.

This path is the path of years,
Slower now,
Still connected with a leather leash,
We stroll convinced of nothing
But the need to walk.

This morning's different, though...
Joe stops halfway up the morning hill,
Houses and our house below...behind,
Says, "Tuck, old boy,
Should we change this time?"
Stoops to look into my eyes,
Unsnaps the leash...
To my surprise.

His smile lets me see
That I am free.
"No need, I think," he says.

I turn and look back
Toward our house,
Think of geese now standing
On the dewy grass,
Observe the sunlight
Glisten on the stand of corn
Beside us,
Remember past enticing smells
Along the way....
A rabbit scent invites me
Off the path to stray....

Joe's moving now,
On up our hill.
I am standing on the path,
A little shocked and still.

A younger dog would run,
But habit's set its track;
Our mutual walk lies up ahead,
So, faithful now, I move
To walk beside my Joe,
Content to travel with a friend,
And let the running go....

I used to think there was a common lure,
A common attraction to the love we built.
But every relationship begins to crumble
As now we are.

If I could simply explain that all of your
Words cut me. All of your flowered colors wilt.
But I simply cannot and I fall into mumble
As now we are.

What was clear between us begins to blur.
There is grey area, no clear sign is felt.
But how is it we never used to stumble
As now we are.

You were impossible to blame
And as was I.
But the Moor left life due to outwardly shame

And the lure into our deceit was too great
And what we had built no longer held meaning
And the stumble was hardened by the foundation
And it was no more,
As now we are.

smiling, frowning & laughing
all just passing
along the route, along their way
crossing sidewalks & bricks unpaved
the business man and his loafers
two lovers
4children joking
1 old man
3new workers
most are happy
some are hurting
others hunting, seeking looking to connect
the wanders wandered as if they knew what was next
a puddle caught a laugh
the rain made it echo
the business woman in the Porsche
splashed the business fellow
the hipster chick giggled
that in his suit he wiggled
just like a duck minus the feathers
however, the homeless man without shelter
nodded on in silent agreement that he was well put together
oh the places we could go
the things we could see
the people that we'd meet
hello hello there faces in the street

why are your empty hands so full
what's holding you there
In a space of clutter
And clingy
And reasoning for no reason
oh the silence we carry in noise
and the noise we carry like instruments
Don't you hear the band
or opera
Or hip hop
Or choice
carry things worth holding
carry smiles
And laughter
And babies on hips
twisting to sure sounds
carry love
and kindness
In our hearts
on our sleeves
that lead to hands lent to our brother
carry memories of your father
dead but not absent
carry no more tissue
tears won't be carried in your eyes
only a bright future
and poems on a phone screen
on the first of April
1/30 is worth carrying.