what will be
my last sensation
before I die -
will it be the
touch
of your hand within mine?

what will be
the final taste in my mouth
before I die -
will it be your
kiss
moist upon my lips?

what will be
the very last thing I hear
before I die -
will it be your
whisper
in my ear?

what will be
the last sight in my eyes
before I die -
will it be your
face
looking at me?

what will be
my last thought
before I die -
will it be
of you
and our life together?

what will be
has not yet happened, but
before I die
I will live every day
with you
until what may be becomes
what will be

red cardinal
alights nearby -
  notices me

I live
yet walk upon
my tomb. I long to fly
up there and escape my coffin;
this Earth

staring
at Departures,
waiting with futile hope
that my flight's not cancelled; let me
get home

These streets
are not just roads;
they hold our stories, and
embedded within them are our
poems

they tell us
having an open mind
is the stake against the
vampire heart of
stagnation
we must discard
what we know
and who we are
because what was
truth
yesterday is today a
lie
I like that - to
be the same man tomorrow that
I am today is terrifying
but then again - I'm a man
who orbits
nothing,
a chameleon of faith,
a kaleidoscope of
swirling belief that is never
still long enough to
find myself

Good men
won't be found here.
Chivalry is long dead.
Here, we sit in shadows and hide
our scars.

chasing the sunbeam
   across the carpet,
my dog finds happiness
in a single moment,
   in a single ray of light.

the little girl next door
skips breakfast
  to play outside in the same sun,
her stomach     empty
because mommy bought gin
instead of milk - again

both enjoy the moment,
oblivious to the shadows -
but my dog isn't hungry