Only the lonely the lone river sighs
Seeking the answer that lies in its path
Searching, its currents pounded each rock
Overturned every pebble
Eroded every cliff
The lone river stood still
The lone river crashed on


Shoulder to shoulder, bank to bank
Climbed every crevice, overflowed every ditch
The answer has to be here somewhere
It created its own path
It screamed in tempest
Raged on in storms
The lone river in flux
The lone river overflowed

It greeted the sky at its moment of rebirth

Looked on and sighed
The lone river let go

The leaves,
though they're dying
still believe they are flying
They soar
taste the wind, paint the ground, scent the air
The fall leaves abound
and I dance the season
among them for now
I dance for the voyage that this bright Earth has made
I dance for the Mother Sun, steadfast in her stay
I dance for the rhythm that this world can't mandate
I dance for the journey that I too must take
The dressed Autumn leaves
they play their lament
They make it a melody on their last descent
I can't sing along for I know not their song
But I'll dance til their melody ends. Yes,
I must dance til the melody ends.

An opaque
Film
Covers
This bridge,
Lit throughout
With many shades
Of imaginary.

Close your
Eyes,
And pretend
Just this once.

Looking
Upon
Its features
With childlike
Wonder.

Remembering
When
We were younger.

Dancing in
The rain
Despite the
Lightning and
Thunder.

Playing in
Daylight outside,
With grasshoppers
In the mud.

Making forts
From nothing but
Sticks
And twigs.

Swimming in
A creek,
Feet against
Smooth rocks,
Skinned knee,
Little minnows
Swimming,
Feeling free.

The hike to the waterfall
          multiplied
                    my fear of falling by
my fear of passing out from exhaustion.

The hills climbed like
     terra cotta slices of cheesecake
          cut for giants.      To the south, hoodoos ringed
like wedding cake, encrusted with
               shimmering slices of Anjou Pear.

“She’s better at hiking
          than she used to be,” Mike said.
“She made it further
          than I expected,” Leilani said.
“She didn’t stop;
          she’s right behind us,” said Celine.

I missed
                    my dogs.  I missed
     the way they would tug at the leash to
propel me toward good smells.  I missed
               the way they would tug behind when they felt
     something looked dangerous or difficult.

Dwarfed by the stone cliffs, I felt
          like a gnat
     at the Marin Farmers’ Market.  The sky and stone
weighed heavy on my soul.

My mind clawed at
          purple seas armed with
                    chisels slashing at the landscape.

she had always said
her favorite color was yellow
for the girl with buttery skin and crystal eyes
it seemed rather fitting
yellow was the color of sunshine
and the color of her hair
after it had been bleached by summer
it was the color of the bumblebees
that drank from her favorite flowers
flowers that now
line her grave

she told you
her favorite color was yellow
because she knew you needed someone
radiant with light
to ease the depth
of your own darkness
so she said
when autumn arrived
you could watch the ground
become littered with yellow leaves
together

when you asked what color
lie beneath her skin
she told you it was yellow
she made herself believe
her body was freckled from stardust
and not from the amber glow
of cigarette burns
she still said
her favorite color was yellow
so she could continue being the light
in your colorless world

soon enough
your favorite color was yellow too
but not for the same reasons
she fell in love with it
you only saw yellow vaguely
in the form of teeth
stained from tobacco and too much coffee
smiling grimly through cracked lips
dripping poisoned honey
you guilded the word ¨love¨
with muted ochre lies

and now
she no longer feels the warmth
that once emanated
from her favorite color
she no longer tastes
the sweetness of butterscotch
and papaya on your lips
for you left her with nothing but
the sour residue of lemons and bile
as your gentle breath
extinguished her golden flames
and reduced her heart to ash

and now
she realizes that bumblebees
can also administer a piercing sting
and as she watches the sunset
with its amber hues
she no longer sees
the color yellow


x.

You're in love with a brewing storm,
ready to burst into hot droplets
and scatter lightning in every direction,
unable to control the strikes.

Why did we go out this night
Got a feeling something's not right
We should of stayed in bed
What was going through our heads .
Walking in the park after midnight
Not so wise if it gives us a fright.
The hooting sound of an owl
A cunning fox on the prowl.
Feeling scared and week at the knees
The creaking branches from leafless trees
The silence is daunting not a soul insight
We should have never gone out so late at night.
Did you see that shadow there ?
To be very honest it gave me scare
It is time to leave and get out of here
Just like a leaf I am shaking with fear.
I hear footsteps on the path
Let's move ahead and not look back
Listen to that eerie laugh
Something is creepy in this park.
Well To tell you the truth I  told you a lie
We never really went out this night
We never even left our bed
This was all a dream inside my head.