i hope  she thinks of you
when the sun shines
in her morning window
and when the moon is full at night
i hope is your face what comes to her mind

when beautiful songs play on the radio
i hope she wants to share them with you
cause i know music is like therapy to you

i hope she thinks of you
before closing her eyes at night
and in her dreams she kisses you
a billion times
i hope she smiles at your picture in b&w;
that she sees all the beauty you carry
inside,
outside.

i hope she talks with you
and she wonders if you're feeling all right
if you had lunch
if you sleep enough
if you rest at night
i hope she asks you about your fears
and dreams
i hope she's there for you
when pain hits you the worst.

i hope she doesn't hurt you.

i hope she gives you the happiness
i could never bring to you
i hope she cares about you
at least as much
as i do.

i hope she loves you

March, 1934, Fort Worth, Texas.

Late, nighttime, when dad pulled into the gas station shortly before it closed. Another car was there as well. A nice looking young man with dark suit and tie, was standing at another pump. In the passenger side, sat a pretty young lady, both he and she appeared to be in their mid-twenties. They exchanged greetings as folks usually do, then dad proceeded to reset his pump( had a crank to turn to reset those pumps to zero, and a metered glass bulb filled with gasoline sat atop the pump. The level, of course, would decrease to show how much fuel was being purchased.)
The young gent completed his task, hooked the pump nozzle back to its base and walked into the office to pay for his purchase. Dad, standing at his car smiled at the young lady, who patiently waited for her boyfriend, or husband, to return. They made small conversation, "nice night isn't it", she said, "yes maam, it is", dad replied. About that time the young man and the station manager came out of the store and walked together, to their car. As the young man opened the door to take his place behind the wheel, he turned to the station manager, "Everett, give us about twenty minutes then call the police and tell'em I was here, I don't want you getting into any trouble." "Will do, Clyde" the old man replied. As they slowly pulled away, the pair gave dad a short smile and a wave. It wasn't until they drove out of the station and disappeared when dad realized with whom he had just spoken, "face to face."
On May 23, 1934, Clyde Barrow and Bonnie Parker were ambushed and slain near the Texas-Louisiana state line by a posse of law enforcement officers, ending one of the most publicized crime sprees in U S history.

As my father said, "You never know who you're talking to! Just another 'guy', filling up his car."

(No, dad didn't wait around for the arrival of the police)

r riddle: March 26,2016

I used to scroll through people's lives.
They all look so exciting.
And here I am.
Living quietly.
Content, but with nothing to show.

Now I'm posting my own happiness.
Trying to show proof of something that doesn't live here.
Now others scroll through me.
Subtext captioned, "Can I pull off the happy look? Are you envious yet?"

The sad part is we are all quietly falling apart.
You cannot document a soul,
You can only see where it's been.
You shouldn't be saying "55 weeks ago, I was happy."

That is not what a happy life is.
Happiness doesn't have time to document itself.
Happiness is candid.
It happens when you don't plan on it & rarely does someone capture it in a still.
It's hard to capture something that's always moving.
But I guarantee if it was captured, it wasn't by you.

It was captured happening to you.
You can't force it against its will.
Happiness comes fast & leaves quietly.
You can only invite it in.

my son is a better version of me

i easily break
he rides storms smilingly

i crumble in a crisis
he handles stoically

my emotions play loud on face
he hides it handsomely

i'm doubtful of exploring
he ventures courageously

i speculate on life too much
he bothers not seriously

I have done time in the prison of the mind

sewed a blue chip on my  shoulder

left the valley to roam and wander

nurtured a black, tormented seed

gave myself over to a blind man's need


I have done time in the sanctity of the moment

stripped down, undone, naked, free

felt the healing waters wash me clean

nurtured a bright, unfettered soul

gave myself over, finally whole

There are always long nights when music doesn't help and alcohol doesn't help and crying just doesn't help.

There are always long days when my legs want to give out and my back is shaking and my heart breaks a little more each hour.

And there will be times in the middle of the night when I want nothing more than to call you and remind you I'm still alive.

To call and just hear your voice even through voicemail knowing you were real at one point in my life.

There are always going to be days when the sun shines a little less and the storms find their way into my heart.

There are always going to be days when I wake up happy and content and I can easily forget you were even a part of my life.

And there will be times in the middle of the afternoon when my mind wanders and I am not nearly as sad as I was a few days ago...

And knowing I am just a little less broken than l was yesterday brings me a little hope that I will move on.

I could tell you that I miss you
Guitar string twang heart throb
I would be singing truths
These mountain tops, their inhales never stop
Pulling in what I give then blowing out through spiral spun honey hair and budding trees
Early spring has me humming little bees lapping up your nectar
Hot coffee in the morning reminds me of steamy midnight windows
Curled up next to your memory mid-winter
Keeping the wolves at bay
Now the bogs are calling to bright sunny days
And the only thing I'm guilty of is asking you to stay