Saying goodbye
To someone you love
Is like reading the final page
Of an amazing book.

As the last chapter ends
You begin to notice
Just how beautiful
And perfect
The plot always was.  

You appreciate the joy
And even the pain
As you read and thumb
Through every page.

Finally understanding
The moral of the story,
You realize you've reached
The end of this journey.

Although the last sentence  
Is the most difficult to read
Another great book awaits
Once you turn the final page.

Eventually you may stumble
Upon yet another great find.
Or maybe you'll return
To the book you left behind.

You may just discover
Once all is said and done
That this particular book  
Was your favorite story
All along.

why a poet?
because a poet
hears the words
which sing the
purest harmonies
because a poet
paints their portraits
in pastels
of phrases
because a poet
dances their agonies
into leaps of faith
and pirouettes
of passion
because a poet
sees
the beauty
in the commonplace
and captures
the moment
in a snapshot
of ink and white
because a bloodless world
cuts itself
a thousand times

and the poet bleeds

Don't approach a dog unknown to you
Holding out your hand, making eye contact
You may frighten him
Let him come to you

Don't write a poem uninspired
It won't work out
In good time
Let it come to you

Don't go out there seeking love
Like a child with a butterfly net
Live your life
Let it come to you

If I were to be a day of the week,
I would be a Tuesday

Not a Monday, bright and yellow
Understanding that today “there be dragons here”
and we must be Ready to conquer, ready to claim,
ready to fight

Not Wednesday, Orange and steady
Containing a consistency that reminds us
we can make it, we will make it

And not the vibrant green Thursday  
Full of promise, anticipation
And the hope of what’s to come

But nor am I the explosive Friday
Dark, and passionate, dedicated
To the thrill and fervor of life

Or a Silver Saturday
Slick and slippery with the idea
Of adventure but that holds no guarantees

Yet still I cannot be Sunday
Muted Gold with warm mornings
and laid back afternoons but always
With the lingering remembrance of tomorrow

No, I am Tuesday

I am faded red
I am the waiting day
The looked over bridge of
What’s now, what’s next
Stuck forever in some delicate limbo

I am the stepping stone
The illusive day floating in and out
Behind the scenes, behind the week
I am tuesday

Floating through the stars in my head
It suddenly feels like, I couldn't belong anywhere other than your bed
And it scares me to the point of madness
How quickly you've picked me up
How here, right now I could burst with the ferocity of a thousand suns
Because when you kiss me it feels
Something like magic
Through my body surges of light come through the cracks in my skin
They shine onto you
It's only that I think you're heavenly
And when we collide
I finally breathe again

She's got a hinge loose.
Well, I'll tell you,
it's more than that.  
The whole door is falling off,
And will certainly take a few other things with it.
The sum failure of her small unseen parts,
Coming loose one by one.  

And there never seems to be a proper screwdriver handy when she needs one.