When toward your eyes
my crooked heart
reaches
there comes a flow
of good and bad but
mostly good
and this in turn sets
a glorious blaze
upon the distant hills
all consuming, sending
forest beasts out
upon the plains where
further scatt'ring then
occurs
until all resettles itself again
the birds alight
and preen one another, the
squirrels come to rest
tiny underleaf mammals begin
to quiet themselves
and you breathe and i
breathe
and the warm surety
of us
comes over and
upon
it all

I have to get to the Moon, just to clean the bathroom
I'll give Mount Everest a nudge on my way back

Am I writing this poem
Because I have something to say?
Or because I feel the need
To get a certain amount of words
Down before I stop for the day?
I think it's a bit of both
Clawing my brain
To scratch it just right
For arbitrary rules
That wake me at night

golden curtains and hard wood floor
longing and lightning

I dream a dozen roses.

I want to hear your voice
I need to feel you

sitting next to me, sister

i dream a dozen roses, beloved

and golden curtains touching the hard wood floor

I dream a dozen roses. little bird

your heart smiles,
angels and wings waiting

one spirit

I dream a dozen roses
white in color,
heart shaped
filled with hope

I dream a dozen roses,
are you still here
dear sister, Lisa?

surely

gentle spirit,
dear sister, Lisa

darling of light

I dream a dozen roses

a heart has many hands
i whispered  
while moonlight stole
through the tears in our blinds
but her breathing never
changed, never
hinted
she had heard and so
i rolled away, sensing
the dog shift
in its soft bed upon the floor
and tried
to pretend
i hadn't really said it

A tuber of sobriety
sprouts in the mind
It swells and thickens
from a root to a vine

A tendril meanders
and wavers
but all the while
still climbs...

The impossible
becoming possible
with discipline
and time

And a flock of blackbirds arose
from somewhere in my heart
winging away before I could count
their number
while on or just beyond
one of our many horizons
an eye blinked
slowly
watching our days unfold
and somewhere far from here insects
floated in the waning light
of an early summer eve
just above
a dew-gathering plain