there is something invisible
that lives inside us both.


-Watercolour

Us was here.


--Watercolour

i know you're tired
the world got me weary, too


-- Watercolour

the house next door makes me
sad.
both man and wife rise early and
go to work.
they arrive home in early evening.
they have a young boy and a girl.
by 9 p.m. all the lights in the house
are out.
the next morning both man and
wife rise early again and go to
work.
they return in early evening.
By 9 p.m. all the lights are
out.

the house next door makes me
sad.
the people are nice people, I
like them.

but I feel them drowning.
and I can't save them.

they are surviving.
they are not
homeless.

but the price is
terrible.

sometimes during the day
I will look at the house
and the house will look at
me
and the house will
weep, yes, it does, I
feel it.

I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.

it was the first time I'd
realized
that.

twenty-fifth floor
double room with a view
on how far you're gone
silly birds
crashing into the window.

they can't get in
i can't get out.


--Watercolour

if you are the christmas tree
i am ashes in his chimney

it's not the same, is it?


--Watercolour

i promise you, i promise you
you'll soon forget.

i never was here.


-- Watercolour

Shock.
Two words
Hitting you like a train.
It takes a second to sink in.
The reality of it all.

Denial.
No. Not possible.
He is so young.
The doctor said he was fine.
This cannot be happening...

Anger.
Screaming at the heavens.
Why me?
I thought my God cared.
So then why is he doing this?

Fear.
What will happen to our family?
Is he going to die?
Will he ever walk me down the isle?
What if...?

Reality.
The tests, doctors, meetings.
They all blend together.
I can't separate one from another.
Because they all say the same things.

The Unknown.
They say chemo will make him weak.
He may not be able to do basic things.
And the same question still haunts me:
Will he make it?