Mourning dove, set on black wires above
The cool, garden lawn, looks down on cat,
Who is burning blithe birds in greenest eyes,
He tastes them as he chirps in trouncing trance
Fixating upon fixing them, his pious patience
Is job like, steadfast, gracious as lifted wings.
Early next day, all that is left of fallen mourning
Dove, are a bed of feathers strewn on the lawn.

Winter weekend, drawing in the winds,
Two poets in revels of word and image,
Late nights, morning walks by sea spin,
All too soon, left with moving sketches.

babe sweet makes a hasty get away
in her 57 Chevy
after robbing the bank
of its pen and pencil sets
someday she's gonna be a writer
and she don't want to run outa ink
not while the words can run like
fine wine from her stumbling fingertips
her drunkard style staggers through the clean vision
with a brush stroke that wanders between the lines
and sometimes wanders out of em
and straight to the borders of insanity
she pauses and thinks to her left behind lover
that the last ship of my life
may indeed have sailed but your not among my regrets
and that's enough for her
so she commits her pilfering of the salesclerk's pocket
and flees with relief pasted falsely on her face
babe sweet drives fast fast to the southern town
and picks up a smile she saw standing by the
side of the dirt road
but little did she realize that
some dirt don't wash off
and her new comfy smile had baggage
of his own in the form of a colt revolver
with a few spent shells
spilling outa his pocket
so they run into the night trying to escape their
separate desperate pasts
she looked at him with a lonely yearning
but he openly saw only that he wanted to get straight
with god and his mamma
if he could only work up the courage to abandon
this trail of tears
they both collapsed into a small  hotel
down in floridas treasure coast
and spent days waiting and watching the evening news
for sings that the world had even noticed them
they are there still
babe sweet and her regretful smile
look to everybody like mona lisa recovering from a ******
someday he will get the courage to get right
someday she will go home to her bed and breakfast
but for now they gather suntans and scrape a living
out of cast off bottle caps
happy enough together and sometimes that's enough