Your tympani voice visits
Every once in a while.
And sometimes, when I hear -
What am I saying. Always.
I'm a lute
Outdated, bouncing soft off your skin
With no one to hear me
But plenty
Within me
To beat
With what's left
Of your
Vibrations.

You whizzed by me.
I must have felt a breeze, but it barely registered.
Such is first meetings, in all truth, dear.

The second time we met I remember
Only because I was proud of myself
For pairing the right name with your face.

Third, I can't remember,
Exactly. Sometime
Sitting around that table -
I know now you must have
Wielded chips as stage props
And used too much chocolate syrup.

Fourth, too. Fifth -
Those are gone.

How can I hold you so precious today
When I knew you so little for so long?

I stumbled upon a wishing well while walking through the woods. It told me it’s fair warning and I nodded that I understood. It told me I could have three wishes but careful I must be, for what I really ask for must be something that I need. It told me I could ask for things I want for myself or others. It said I could be rich and famous, or give the best to my sons or daughters. To that I said “hey take it easy, I just want a drink of water.” I didn’t come here seeking things, so you really shouldn’t bother.  I’ve made my life with my two hands and it isn’t much but it’s mine. I have a small house and happy family and they are doing just fine. See some people have the lives they want and don’t need anything else, so give me some water as a good well should but keep your wishes to yourself.

The wind moved in magenta waves
across long summer grass  
We drove to the usual lookout place
first the creaking, then the shrill
An ancient glacier crashing, calving,
splashing ominous waves that met us at the road
Wet washing horizontal rain
a moment of rebirth
dripping, dumbfounded
soaked immaculate