And I stand here on the other side of the lake,
looking at that bridge where we use to meet!
I stand here, feeling the early winter breeze,

listening to your music, I sand here

I stand here as the sun rises on the other side of the lake, I break, my heart aches, I stand here!

Staring at that bridge, imagining your hair dancing to the falling leaves, as their color changes to bring in the winter breeze that you wait for every year

my dog has depression,
can’t drag itself out of bed; it lays in the kitchen and looks out the window,
wondering, worrying, whining about the light - about the window and the view; it never has
anything much to say,
or if it does,
it doesn’t amount to much, anyway; but it’s okay, it’s just my dog -
it’s not me, anyway; my dog has blue eyes - wish they were brown; all my friends have brown,
and they all seem happy; my dog can’t walk straight; it’s loud,
it’s annoying,
sometimes it smells; my dog, my dog, my dog, I tell you about my dog;
sometimes I think, it’s more important than me, I mean -
I’m not my dog, anyway; I’m not as interesting; I can’t come and say hello and all those things
that make you people smile and giggle and laugh; and when there’s a pause - a really awkward pause -
I can’t look at you
and have all that - your - worry just disappear, like that; I once screamed and howled and danced at
the moon, and my dog just - stared; but does it really matter - my dog was on a comfy bed, and
the way it sat; the same place where it sleeps -
I tell you about my dog,
I tell you about my dog;
I tell you about it all the time, for

I don’t know how to talk about

me

can you imagine

growing old?
to see - to smell
the flowers grow

year after year?

to have your love
in such a smile,
and hold it so close

year after year?

to see the wrinkles
snuggle into a blanket called
our skin, yet - we don’t mind -
as year after year

we grow like the flowers -
and I will have no fear for age nor death nor worry
for I will know - I have lived, and I have lived

with you

Couple together,
walking in the rain - pretty;
I walk with myself

that orange smiled

from the open hands
of the trees

it danced
and rejoiced
when it saw the good - there -

the ghost, from this past rain
began to wallow
and whisper to me

look at
look at
look at
how happy this all is

it had stopped now
- of course - what was new
of something meant to pass, but I didn’t worry,
it was all okay

I looked at the sky, that

orange,
and I said to myself

look at how happy this all is

another way of being

a different way to go


sometimes our house is on fire

yet we think there is reversing in the lane

turn to find the pepperoni has burned

yet nothing is damaged

really


the goods are delivered

and the bird is safe