old woman holding up the queue
as she fumbles for her purse
was once more beautiful than you
and far more fitting for a verse

It's breaking
It's broken
Anxiety
Awoken
Internal pains
Unspoken.

Sky at my feet
Head in the sand
Nothing sufficient
Close by or on hand.

It's broken
It's shattered
All I've loved
Never mattered
Cruel
Hindsight.

Time may heal
But present burns
Tomorrow unforeseen
Splintered tables turn.

It's broken
It's on fire
My love, my passion
My drive and desire.

This poor heart
Will never know
The riches gone begging.

...the thing
                    ...you did it
   ground a mountain out of
a seed
   birthed a dream out of
a death

you are not where you were
   10     5     1      year ago
but have you stopped to
                                         appreciate it

it is better to be
   late to the birthday than
early to the funeral

The dots
Walking over to
Until a dot becomes you
Waiting heart
That is love.