I heard a whisper of your
in the empathy of
I excavated her
for a thread of your
to hem the frayed
of our torn
only to recover
in the corner of my
Today a little praying mantis crawled down the back of my neck.
I think I picked him up on my morning commute
when I rode my bike too close to the trees.
Perhaps my head hit the leaves and dislodged him,
forced to cling to my hair through the cycle-speed breeze
waiting only till I came to a halt to make his dash toward freedom
He made it quite a distance before I unknowingly squished him.
I saw trash flowers
in the field this morning.
You never got me on a bike,
but now i ride everyday.
Just to pass by the flowers.
The drought broke this year.
and the leaves on the trees
and the sage on the plains
and the creeks beds in the Sandias
are still green.
I want you to see all the beauty I see
when the sky is red and orange and purple and pink.
And the cottonwoods
when the sunlight slides through the clouds
illuminating the long grove of trees
through the center of town.
Yesterday I pulled over on the highway
to take a picture of the mesa
and the clouds above
colored by the setting sun,
but the camera does the sky a great disservice.
sandia, green, summer, flowers, trees, town, highway, mesa, picture, beauty
You're so far away across the land and sea
do you see the clouds I've seen?
I know the planets and stars are the same for you
as for me.
Though you saw them this morning
could you see the red glow of mars
like the tip of Sagittarius' arrow
The constellations have almost made their way back
to where they were
when we were
I miss you.
I'm coming back,
but I'm afraid it'll be a while.
So for now look into the sky and know
through the planets and stars
I see you.
oh little tree--
through the days
you held your leaves.
so strong, I thought
you might never let go,
but the wind did blow
the little red leaves
from the bare little tree
My first night in Paris
I was swindled by a gypsy
right outside the station.
I bought a baguette, red wine, and cheese.
I drank too much
and ****** myself in the rain
under the trees.
A no-good coward
Phony, lowsy, scared of my own shadow
I don't like
There's nothing to be afraid of on the ground
I close my eyes and think about what everyone will say if I die
Not worth the matter
Atoms angry at the wasted years being part of me