I loved to ride my Schwinn bicycle
I guess I was only nine
I ride it down to the pond
where I spent a lot of my time

I also loved a girl back then
She had a dog named Polar Bear .
Of course it was white
Until it was run over
by a school bus whose driver didn't care

I loved living in Florida
The salt air from
the ocean there
When I left the Sunshine State
I left a huge chunk
of me back there

Now I am a hand in my pocket
Always reaching for something not there
Home is where you hang
your hat
But I found no pegs to hang it
Inside of your lair .

If only we could put poems
in a bucket
Then throw onto a raging
fire
Would the flames die out
Or leap even higher .

But it seems words cost us nothing
More plentiful than the grass on the ground
Our lives have become instrumentals
Where there are no words to be found

I am the embers
In the fireplace of your heart
My fire has made you warm
In the eternal after glow you mark

Your surface is so smooth and worn
A delight to my finger's touch
I really come alive deep inside
When the rush becomes too much

In darkness we see so clear
As I caress the small of back
Liberated from our fears
There is no loving that we lack

By dawn the spooning's heat
is all that will remain
Let me be your chimney sweep
And we will burn again