The pain settled
in the marrow of her bones
like termites feeding on timber.
The pain battled
with the beautiful thoughts of her mind
like a prize-fighter pinned against the ropes.
The pain dragged
her youth and her innocence

and tossed her off a twelve story parking garage.

The grief stole
the satisfaction of life from his control
like a gust of wind upon candlelight.
The grief fogged
the gleam of hope in his eyes
like factory steam blots out the stars.
The grief shackled
his energy and his spirit

and bound him to a hospital bed.

...why couldn't they find a hand to hold?

~

Standing to fight
In the heart of the city
The jungles of asphalt
where neon flashes evil
as sidewalk dwellers
window shop hate
and find peace labeled “Not for sale”

I cling to my beliefs
in lamp post graffiti
Spray painted wishes
fading in color
and store owner nightmares,
defacing the brick walls
surrounding my very existence

Fear falls in pamphlet raindrops,
pages scattered
beyond the welcome mats
of big box politicians
in paisley ties
and sharp creased slacks,
shaking hands and scamming votes

Promises made
circled in cigar smoke and cheap wine,
fall on unsuspecting ears as truth
until the “sorry we’re closed” signs
spin in favor of loss…
opening for business
to the throngs of the needy

I see their eyes, hollow,
faltering of sorrow as worry
becomes the next day’s problem
Reaching into my pocket I retrieve
the multi-colored wings you gave me…just in case
and I fly to be with you
Unable to face the fall…of humanity

~

Dusty leather laces
Knots of endless fraying
Caustic on the ribbons of a heart now in the shade

Promises are broken
Thin ice on the river
Postcards tossed into the trash so long ago displayed

Darkness finds the corner
Shadows hold the meaning
Does the world still spin when every other place is spared

Tight along the border
Guards embrace the fence line
Lost along the boundaries of love no longer shared

Knees are feeling weaker
Tears now find their falling
Puddles drench the wingtips neatly polished on the strand

There outside the window
Sunlight streams the valley
Teaching us the woman doesn’t always make the man

Sometimes she breaks the man…

An empty room seared into memory
It once held your breathless form
I listened to that heart go silent
Crying wet, hiccuping tears onto your heated skin
I cleaned you up, kept you warm
Tried desperately hard to shut your eyes
Knowing that you would never smile with them again
I cannot say for sure if you heard us
Your father breaking down through the speaker
Mitchell, your best friend, sobbing through the phone
I held each call gently, wishing not to cause you more pain
My voice softly singing the song we danced to at our wedding
The stark, violent feeling of your loss
When you were finally free'd from your mortal prison
For you that word took on a whole new meaning
I have never been so proud as the day when you made me yours
But watching you, fighting along your side
To not give up
Even to your last ghost of thought
I was even more so
Left with an aching dark moon
A dead sun
No light to reflect off of my screaming face
I grieve in darkness
Where I can still feel the weight of your  hand in mine

I walked with the hundreds
climbing mountain trails all day
and settling by the pebbles
at the summit, to hear you:

I, for one, never doubted
there was any scarcity of food;
Yes, you were always
a miracle worker.

On nights of wonder, you
spoke to us in secret on
marvelous things.
Actually, I did not care:

Whose grace floods the desert
and in whose law, love precedes,
such a one was with us and that was
all that mattered.

And now, by moonless nights,
when I stay up, alone and orphaned,
in struggle and privation,
I wonder, my friend, why is your

coming again set in the future?
Do you not come for love alone
than to keep the law? Do you
not part waters for our deliverance?