The tired twig broke.
A lone Leaf went into a free fall.
It softly landed on the ant hole.
A bustling empire descended into permanent darkness.

I cry for things I might have done
And who I might have been.

I cry for opportunities missed
And enterprise that failed.

I cry for hands I might have held
That somehow I let slip away.

I cry beause the time is short
With so much treasure left unfound.

I cry because it’s the only thing
That’s somehow left for me to do.
                  ljm

A whiff of You on my collar,
drifting towards the door,
in the spaces you graced.

My lungs take you in like my own cells.
You understand my distant nature,
worries, faults, evening regrets
Better than I.

Our bodies hold us at skins length.
When you leave, your scent embraces me—-
closer than a hairbreadth.

So go.

A child smiles at the moon; the moon smiles back
For they are friends, you see, both peek-a-boo
Behind and through the leaves of their favorite oak
In an ancient world that is forever young

Adults are children who have forgotten how
To see, and who have lost their bearings, their course
Their pirate-maps for sailing to the stars
And their lunar love-letters to be read in dreams

Among the fireflies, on the cooling-dusk field
A child smiles at the moon; the moon smiles back

When the world comes crashing in,
Washing over you like the tide;
When you have nothing left to win,
And want to give up on your fight.

When you can't see a spark of light,
After days of pouring rain;
When you keep on saying you're alright,
While your heart is forced to bane.

When you have no one to hold onto tight,
Because life has left on you its mark;
When you can't look on the bright side,
I will sit with you in the dark.

a scuba diver,
stunned by coral display,
forgets his way back!

i do my thing
and you do your thing

i am not in this world to live up to your expectations
and you are not in this world to live up to mine

you are you
and i am i

and if by chance we find each other

it's beautiful

Peering through a wasp's wing
at shadows on the wall
Hear the whispered whimper
echo down the hall
Glass thump of bone and feathers
against the bedroom window
Motes of darkness floating
to air a moldy winnow
Creak of standing knees
rise in opioid haze
To wander past the shadows
and sniff of death's bouquets.

r ~ 6/11/14