Tonight, she taught me the nature of healing summer rains
Whimsical descriptions of dancing in puddles, but
Metaphors only serve to drown her pain
Dry on the surface, swearing inside the drought sustains
But dew droplets in her eyes betray her restraint
The morning after, the storm remains

Little flower, bent at the stem
Oversaturated by the self-absorbed
Her waterlogged roots weighing her down, but
In fields of bloom they still look to you
See, the weak reach for the easily used green and blue tulip hues
But her yellow petals require strength to be pulled from the meadow

the red glow of her cigarette.
the fingers of her left hand
yellow  with nicotine
clutching dying flowers

"buy a rose for your lover," she says,
"buy one for your wife. buy 2."

"the flowers are wilted."

"maybe it's your eyes that are wilted.

she had black hair
black as the night
the violent night
and gray eyes
the shade of ***** ice

"you must love
someone,
some of the time, no?
put a rose on
your father s grave, then."

"love is like lost pennies
falling from a broken jar."

she smooths her hair with one pale,
long, fingered hand, "you re crazy."

"my mom says so."

i was born to
have adventure

I followed her up the steps.

i was born to chase the night
through the forest
of dead roses.

Birds perch on old rock

as emerald tides close in

a new day is born

I'd like this night shift better
If words were worth your time,
Or I had more command of them--
Enough to move your eyebrows,
Call all your lovers liars,
Convince you I'm your touching stone.

Come sit with me
On this stone of sorrow;
Weep, lest I weep alone.
We may have laughing again...
Tomorrow;
But today, I'll rest
On this sorrowing stone,
Together with you
Or alone.



  My woman is the essence of being, she gathers the ruin of the day to offer moonbeams. Her touch, geared to moods of the moment, oscillates between slap and caress.... is always, though, kind, considerate, caring and layered betwixt lavender levels of love.
Mother of my boys, protector of the clan, matriarch and Monarch. My Janet, the very love of my life.
M.