So sweet.
there are birds, that wish that they were her.

My mom once, when I was eight-
told me about what happens when we die.

She said we forget about our friends and family.
We "become part of the ground and sky".

we forget about our mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters.
Their faces mean nothing.

We don't need anyone.
We don't need each other on the other side.

I guess its okay.
At least you wont be sad.
when you see me in hell,
you wont remember who i am.

Old family pictures,
happier then than now.
Crumpled old receipts from Christmas time,
the spirit of giving, money spent proud.

Too scared to visit, or sit and talk.
to step on cracks in the sidewalk.
scared of dad getting sick.
scared when mother has trouble breathing in the attic.

What i had-
Recently, come lost to me.

Like winter looses warmth-
And the sidewalk looses leaves.

I see them in the trees-
I hope that they miss me.

I know that it sounds desperate-
Its desperate, I agree.

The hazel in her eyes/matched the laces in her dress/I must confess/ that as I undid all the knots/ A thousand thoughts/ rushed through my head/ but i forgot/ how to speak/ so I let my hands speak to your hips/ and my neck adore your lips/ the only kiss/ I could miss/ on a day/ when you'd be away/ I'd beg to stay/ in your arms/ no harm/ would come to pay/ any attention/ to the way/ I hold my most prized possession/ rose red lips/ slender finger tips/ caress me/ the candles lit/ fire in the balcony/ smoke into the sky/ clouding light/ bringing night/ by your side/ I stay inside/ try to hide/ from snow and ice/ getting lost/ lost inside/ again, your hazel eyes.

A deer crossing sign-
Barren trees-
Long dead grass in the ditch.

Tapping of my fingers on the wheel-
Off tempo finger tips.

Imagining a home cooked meal-
My stomach turns and twists.

Lights in the distance-
Rest area, next exit.

Red road-
A deer is spread like my hands across the steering wheel.

Blue skies-
black iced roads-
White hills-
Midwestern winter robes.