.

We lay in the soft grass

picking out shapes in the white fluffy clouds
as they wander across

a brilliant blue sky

You gaze above and whisper
“I have never seen anything more beautiful”

I stare at their reflection in your eyes and say,

“Neither have I”

The hum of the fan
sings a lullaby
as the stress of the day
falls out of the muscles

An angels cloud of a pillow
my head sinks in
covers pulled up high
warm in my womb

The sheep ramble bye
one bye one
and slowly transform
into nothing

The sandmans dust
has been sprinkled
and rapid eye movement begun
falling into the land of dreams

Landing softly
in a newly mown green field
with knee deep patches
of bluebonnets and Indian paint brushes

A creek trickles nearby
its lulling sound
a salve for any remaining pain
brim swim in its cool waters

In the distance
snow capped mountains
haloed by the sun
that hides behind it

Cottontail rabbits
on the move
pay me no mind
on their journey

The purple martins
sing their song
interrupted
by the mockingbird

A whitetail doe
and her two spotted fawns
ease by, head down,
munching on grass

Calmed, and relaxed
breathing easy and rhythmic
eyes dart around
taking in the beauty of the dream

Images extracted from
the tapestry of my dreams.
Sewn intricate...
Into a patchwork.

A quilt,
embroidered with lavish sequins and ornate beads.
Bringing forth fantastical motifs...
A dazzling display
upon the backdrop of my dreamscape.

Yet...
This mosaic of dreams
does not warm me so.
It never lasts.

They fall away like autumn leaves
come the dawning sun.
They get washed out and pulled into the tide,
as the waves beat upon the shore of wakefulness.
They fade into fragmented memories
that make no sense...
Incoherent and disjointed.

Eventually, they disappear...
For they do not belong
in a world of worldly things
and ticking clocks.
Their intangible and mismatched nature
render them inconsequential...
Naturally...
They get misplaced.

But I am stubborn.

I will fashion such a blanket.
One that skirts the boundary
of this realm and the other.

I will tailor it so...

So that...
I will sleep tonight,
swaddled tight and cocooned within its
glorious seams.
Tucked within the safety and warmth of
this blanket...
Woven immaculate...
Out of
worldly things and breathtaking dreams.

Do you remember
The fairy tales we spun
On those blazing summer noons
When the road tar was melting
And we bunked classes
To be under the forest flame
Shadowed from the world outside
When we thought time would be immortal
As you wiped the sweats from my forehead
And with every thread of yarn
I would grip you harder
In an effort to prevent gravity
From letting those moments fall
Into the abyss of memories.

Do your eyes still see the Prince
That never took you away
When you tell your grandkids
The fairy tales?

On rainy days,
I feel lost when
you are not here.
I gaze out the window,
watching the rain
soak the world outside.
The trees sway in
the cool breeze,
and all I can
think about is you.
Yes,
on rainy days,
I feel like I'm 17 again.  
Starving my bones,
and staring at my phone.
Waiting for your message,
"Come over, I'm waiting".
I'd pull on my jacket,
and walk a few blocks
down the street.
Butterflies in my belly
the whole way there.
Yes,
on rainy days,
I think of you.
I think of the first time
you held me in your arms
while the rain washed
my sorrows away.
You held me so close,
I knew you loved me,
before your lips spoke
a single word.
I was yours.
You were mine.
Our eyes told
each other everything.

Burgundy, the color of a dress I’ve never worn
to an occasion that never occurred

Velvet lined
coffin
Where lies the violin
There lies its song

The heart of fiddle strings
that bare of arms
That heart that sings, speaks, no, yells
to the hands that can’t respond!
to a mind that can’t remember
I was drowning in some future
not a violinist’s

“Alive with Pleasure”
read the billboard slogan for cigarettes
behind the happy couple
running out into their future

Forcing the hand of marriage
Waving goodbye to my life
from a rooftop in Scranton
as the wind hauled my laundry three city blocks
dumping my unders on Saint Luke’s sills
sailing my sheets up Wyoming Avenue

I lay on the tar and pebble roof
watching pigeons swirl
listening to traffic pass on the street below
The moment you know you’ve made the mistake
you can’t return from....

Wherever my towels have blown?
I wish them well....

As the earth turns,
I dreamed you were here with me.
I sometimes dream you even
when I can see you clearly.

Inside a fire burns
as I fantasize my world
often imagining your feelings
even as we're kissing.

Shall I ever learn,
that you don't belong with me?
Your heart is someone else's,
your eyes are blind to me.

So now it's my turn
to be the one who cries.
Isn't it astounding how one lives
while the other dies?

Eva comes home from work to where there are many flies
and slaps my brother side-headed because he left the back
door open,  she is bovine heavy and limps to close it.  We eat

Chef Boyardee Spaghetti and it is soothing like peanut butter
fudge or Pepsi-Cola.  Eva says do the dishes up boys,  goes
to bed and cries.  Me and brother go to sleep and I dream

of a burning house.

I have had to learn
A few lessons to get here.
Suffered beyond my means
At the hands of people
Who never deserved to hold
My light in their hands.

And in the aftermath when
My Dark comes knocking,
I try to remember that
Greener grass is just ahead.

Had I known that greener
Meant the color of your eyes
When you smiled,
I would have run barefoot
Over broken glass to get here quicker.

Not that I know where here is,
Or if this is the final destination;
But you pick the words
From the tip of my tongue
And make them sound like music.

You are a warrior.
I saw it in the way you sized me up
While we talked away sunsets.
You wear your battle scars like
The beautiful banners they are.

Darling,
You leave me star eyed.

Every facet of your personality
A gentle reminder that
I am not alone.
That the Dark isn't a deity
Capable of swallowing me whole.
But something I can over come
With your words.

The grass looks greener
Where we are headed.
Even if we wander through a mine field
And end up walking away
Missing pieces ourselves
In each other,

I won't give up till we can touch
Every single blade of grass
With the tips of our toes
As we dance to each others war songs.