Winters tide was regressing lingering
in moments of perpetual imbalance.
For the sight of seasons changing
was becoming benumbed in reflection.

Tears were woefully descending as
sentiment was clinging to branches.
An interval of passing was imminent
and one was fleeting in bleak breath.

As one was entombed in slumbering
hibernation, never quite departing.
Petals awoke to the kiss of a thousand
sunbeams, basking in seasons embrace.

Foot tapping on waiting room
Linoleum with the pace of test
Result nervousness.

Scent of mostly bad news
Layered on walls in dire need
Of paint and less tasteless

Decor.
Her name is a shot fired at
The shield surrounding her

Continous playback of worst
Case scenarios as her hand meets
That of the doctor

Whose eyes give less than
Nothing away.
Please sit down.

Sink like shards of shattered
Hearts, or float for decades in
Love with the worried man

Awaiting the same news with
Unsteady workman's hands
Around a ***** phone.

It vibrates, and the Doomsday
Clock in his chest skips ticks
And tocks, approaching a

Schrödinger's midnight or noon.
I'm in remission, she whispers.
Then nothing.

Nothing but two unison breaths
Carried across an umbilical
Cord connecting souls that just

Lost their full
Amount of
Weight.

This is Relief.
This is Sunrise;
Spring.

My sunset is just a memory away
A faded thought of light to say

I find I've lost
at such a cost

With the seconds in thought
By the minute
I have to pay

The hours were dull
The days the same

The years flew bye
To my dreadful shame

I love to embrace
the final light

But my home is in
the calm of night

Why does rain smell?
How come leaves make that
Crunching sound when walked
Upon in autumn? That
Great October Sound.

We love seconds and minutes.
Hours and days are for the
Weak,
Weeks and years for the
Hopeless romantics.

Nothing hopeless
About our romance.
We just shut up and take it in.
Love? Photo album in words?
Yes.

We know it.
It's like laughing when her
Dog Shelby
Kisses me, and I kiss her back,
Wet snout and all,

And she carries that kiss to her
Owner;  
So beautiful by the mirror,
Asking me:
Should I wear the black or the

Purple dress? and I lean back
And enjoy her trying them
On.
We are the Moment People.
We snapshot microseconds

And capture them
Like this.
This is why we're poets.
We help them remember.
We write for the ones we love.

The bees and butterflies already came
I've no more nectar,
For you to take

**** me
If you will
Go on
Take of me what's left

Ash,
Once carried on a lilac breeze

Smoke,
From a limply held cigarette
Burnt
To the filter

Me
A distant souls memory
Remaining on a winds
Left swirl

My resin fairy gave birth
Prose, Her name
Wingless *******
In my pocket

She and I
The same

Hearts and heads.
Hearts and heads.
Thoughts at daytime,
Tears in bed.

Fingers and skin.
Fingers and skin.
Stop by the church,
Or continue in sin?

Sky so high.
Sky so high.
So far up, and we can't
Fly.

Stone or feather.
Stone or feather.
Float or fall.
We'll find out together.

My daughter sleeps to the sound of the ocean
softly, gently rocked
forth and afar into dreams and nightmares
a soft static blanket
the assonance of water

My daughter sleeps
to the sound of an ocean that she has never heard
a loop of imagined waves that have
never wet her feet
she has never run screaming and laughing
from the imagined horrors of seaweed, foam
Tangaroa’s arms enfolding her

As my daughter sleeps, I cry
as salty as the swells she’s never seen
in this landlocked room
slowly falling from my cheek
to land on hers
a soft saline baptism

As my daughter sleeps, my thoughts fly
wondering how I can fill her
with the awe that something as elemental
something as capricious
something as beautiful
can exist in this tattered world

but still, my daughter sleeps