And maybe I have been
so familiar with being
out of this place
That when someone willing
to shelter me came,
I ran my life out of it.

Or maybe I have been
so into out of love
That when he came
and offered his heart,
I had no idea how to handle it.

So I ran my heart away.

In the gentle quiet
When most are fast asleep
The velvet night envelopes
The people as they breathe
The deep breath’s of the resting
The murmurs as they dream
As all the stresses of the day
Are melted right away

I sit alone
In my own company
Looking at my younger self
Through time jaded eyes
Wishing to give
Some learned advice
Wanting to share
The wisdom of age
But knowing
His time is past

do you ever dream of a place
where you were so unhappy

that you have to go back
forcibly

do you ever wake up late
your neck hurting

like heck

do you console yourself that it
is winter

dark and to be expected
occasionally

do you still feel guilty
anyhow

some do

some are glad it was just a dream

Whatever happened
        With shortening?
Haven't seen it in any kitchen
          Or recipe, in
Fourty-five years

Absolutely a possibility the new know all that there is to be
Without rearing or influences
You see. They see.
From the beginning maybe
Experience colors the soul a
Bit pessimistic or routine is
It or reality that
Days add more than wrinkles
To our cheeks, perhaps, days add
Crinkles to your synapse,
A fold to your temporal lobe
Not temporary or extraneous that we learn evil,
Not a bite from some apple,
A reptilian representation, or
As we crawl skinned knees
Burn supple becomes calloused.
As It were, instinct, I can
Smell
Burning like incense in a swaying
Silver cantonment ritual.