I’m hanging
on the ‘y’
of your goodb  e
                         y

She stopped to look at the flower
so that we would stop
to look at her
looking at the flower.

Breathe in
Now count to ten
Ready your fingertips
Now softly stroke the pen,
Across the page

Don’t write the words
Paint for me
Falling autumn leaves a slight mahogany
Create the sky
Show me the technicolor dreams inside your mind

Call for thunder on stormy seas
Cupid’s arrow one snowy Christmas Eve
Make me believe
Now on my count,
Breathe out

After failed rules, regs gone awry,
-values with no standard
-worth with no weight

we face, each the other, we face
screens and see reflections,
into the glass,
darkly
saying all our mind is willing to share,
if you care, or if I dare, you know?

-- I think of a dog friend I have;
-- she speaks her mind, with her eyes…
-- looks at me, as if she felt me think of her,
she wags her tail,
sometimes,
it seems such things are happening

just because I think
this or that
occurs to me and thus, to you, in your role,
in your time.

I notice, there, in my future, you do, too.

Bruce speaks
of the long and endless sleep
I wish it wasn't so

Dreaming of the Deep
Ay yay yay yay yo!

Sickness is my lot
But so is cedar snow

I'm tired and I'm lonely
How much more to go?

thunder heard in striking eyes