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am i ee Sep 2015
trodding through trees,
Mother Earth
fresh and sweet,
twice this season,
twice so recent.

stumbled upon,
on the floor of the woods,
a pair of perfect wings,
not a feather disturbed.
only the very center,
the body,
not there.

a spine cleaned bare,
remained right there,
next to the
wings
of the penultimate one.

only silent space,
lying between,
each wing,
between  
each one.

oh what mysteries surround,
lying around,
not making a sound.
only for those who wander
and look,
and,
look and,
wander around.
am i ee Sep 2015
"don't get old,"
whispered she.
"my love, my friend, my life."
"stay with me."

"i'm gonna miss you so, when you are gone."
slow tear tracing down,
arms wrapped tight,
kissing her with all her might.
presupposes predecease.
am i ee Sep 2015
if we are ALL the  ONE,
which part of the ONE are you?
am i ee Sep 2015
her ******* shorted out.
so she flung it across
the room
like a
shoulder launched
cruise missile.

then,
there was a knock
at the door.

hastily pulled she,
her jeans up her legs  
about her *****,
wrapping long cardigan
about her for warm
as she went to the door.

opening it wide,
there stood
the most,
gorgeous hunk,
of a manly cowboy
her eyes were ever to see,
ever to set upon,
ever again.

"havin' a bit a trouble ma'am?"
"anything i can do to assist?"
asked he,
tipping his wide brimmed hat
so very
gentlemanly.

"why yes i am."
"and yes you may."
replied she.
"would you like to come in
and take a cup of tea
with me?"
The Very Beginning of The Manly Cowboy
am i ee Sep 2015
hey!
you big fat bus!
with your big fat!
yellow bootay!
i say!
go on
now
get outta my way!
i say!
hey!
get outta my way!
school is starting soon....

The Very Beginning of the Big Fat Yellow Bootay
am i ee Sep 2015
four paws padding along the earth,
noise to the ground
snuffling scent.

curving in waves,
tracking a prey,
treasures appear
as we walk this way.

dark green and yellow
box turtle shell,
yellow head and hands
barely peeking out.

leaves quivering
high in the boughs
of the trees.

small little sparrow
grey and still,
lying intact on
the ground,
but for your
little broken neck
ringed in crimson.

pausing to lay
it to rest,
leaf for a blanket,
a prayer for the best.

water bugs
skating along,
pools of calm spots
where flowing creek travels
temporarily stopped.

later inside,
a tiny black dot
hurries by.

index finger poised,
finally lowered,
and so, now you are,
no more.

pausing to ponder,
is this ****** i've done?
is this what consigns one,
to hell,
when one's own time
is done?
another morning... the ebb & flow of life... the Tao.
am i ee Sep 2015
i never drank to get drunk
but at times
i got drunk as i drank.

wondering why i drank...
i recall
a friend who never saw 44 at all.

Ft Lauderdale spring break
so pretty and sweet and petite
who could have ever seen
what a few
would eventually do
to you.

at least 3 rehabs
Betty Ford counting among them
you recounted how many
spoke of all the chardonnay
that finally got 'em.

at times i envied your easy life
or so it seemed.
new home,
new sheets and towels
bright white carpet and all.

successful husband
diamond jewelry
art on the wall
mercedes benz
and money too.

no worries about bills
to pay
jobs to get
love to find.

but i liked your VW beetle much better
and your painter's pants on you,
so chic and popular at the time.
your so sweet a nature
honest and true
generous and all.

blonde and adorable
the years took their toll.

i never knew the pain
you were going through,
you never told.

what an education
you did give,
when finally you
revealed
where you had gone,
where you had been.

tales of hidden bottles,
drinking on the sly,
hiding and covering
all of the lies.

the cops couldn't believe,
you could still be alive,
with a blood alcohol level
of 4 point 0.

how we grow strong,
build up the tolerances,
until they amaze and astound
each and even every one of us.

the years and the glasses,
caught up with you,
the first place you begin to bleed,
or so i learned,
when your liver goes  
and starts to harden
and your blood can't flow,
is through your neck and throat.

blood transfusions,
they
helped for awhile,
then one night.........

well one night...
that was all.

a cautionary tale...
for all you college bound...
you never know which one of you will be the one...
who never sees your next sun
the next sun's light.
inspired by Derek Devereaux Smith's 2015 Wine Party.  Derek's piece scratched at an old memory... his is sweet and moving and fraught with possibilities and hope.. and somehow it pulled me into thinking of someone i knew and loved.  in memory of my sweet and beautiful and talented suffering college friend.  you are always remembered & i shall see you ... hmm perhaps fairly soon.
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