The table was set.
The morning was fine.
The world lay reflected
in two glasses of wine.

An empty plate
reflected sunshine,
The morning compressed
in two glasses of wine.

What did she see
in undulations of wine?
Were the shapes a portent?
Was there a design?

Were the glasses a mirror
or shadowy sign?
Perhaps they were more
than just glasses of wine.

She and a friend
sat down to dine.
Their reflections drank deeply
from two glasses of wine.

Red gold stroking strings
of Terra-cotta tocsin,
bounced a check today
and we wonder
will she rot in her cups?
How might we drink
all these donuts...
as a finger stirs the air,
her drum roll eyes...
time became tree limbs
of propaganda.

Why.

Cloud kissed
by hills
hemmed in
by patchwork stone,
a providence in Perugia
her cobalt dreams
strum gypsy wings
where
yellow fringed faces
follow the sun,
an itinerant balloon
tints the grass fucshia
then drifts away
to kiss the sky.

Hastily I boarded her plane
Outrageously exquisite was the flight
Sighting of spectacular neon rainbows
Thus longed landing in her land of bliss
And less did I expect for I was
Going to really end up
E**ternally held hostage into her cockpit

Today the rains came, without any warning
I watched droplets forming, pooling on the ground
the trees dissolving into palest fog
into the quiet of this forest, void of birds
traveling off to some secret world
perhaps to some cavernous mountain hollow
with glorious wings, I dream to follow
through the darkened woods, hidden by ferns
through harrowing clouds to be one with birds
with gorgeous feathers, downy warm
among the flickers, pheasant and crow
to be an evening silhouette in the alpenglow
a skylark winging in a painted sky.

the ghost of the moon,
a sky of dark oaks,
its blacks deep cauldrons
breaking like twigs underfoot
its blacks tragic horizons
where the clouds stretch and dissolve.

The sunset strings its rosary in beads of strawberry and mother's love as the day comes to an end. The light lays and prays.  

When you miss something, you think of the small, fleeting moments that you gave no attention to before. You start to think of the way she pronounced things, tongue smooth over teeth and so unlike you. You think of the way her eyes moved when she laughed, the way she touched your shoulder gently when she looked at you, blue eyes and butterfly pink lips.

I wonder what it will take to pry me away from you. I wonder how much will ever be too much. What weight will stop my heart from giving anymore?

I saw the way you moved over the kitchen floor, your small feet gliding on the tile, dancing to your own humming. The sun was stinging my eyes, trying to count her days and count her blessings.

It felt like God almost cared about me again.

But God doesn't care about me.
He doesn't care what you like.
He doesn't even care.

And if all good things must come to an end, then let me just say amen to everything that makes you you. Amen to the smallest of moments and the tiniest of hints that someday, the sun would burn out.

The flower never grows
Without the rain
Maybe its just a summer mist
Maybe its a hurricane
it's all the same
The flower never grows
Without the rain
And all my grey clouds
Turned to black
And brought raindrops
Only in lightning
Its all the same
I was begging for your water
However it came
Quench my thirst
Or make me drown
I will be happy
I was only waiting on the rain

The clouds have opened up
I'm growing now

I'd like to forget
          The places I have slept
                     Before
But....
There is a way
            The things you've seen become
                      Who you are

I don't feel the pain anymore
But I still bare the scars
I carry them with me where ever I go
And my hands are empty

I haven't left this parking lot for three whole days
I'm leaving now
Leaving part of me there

I'd like to forget
           The places I have slept
                      Before
But.....

The places can't forget me