The first time
I lost a home
was when I
outgrew
my sandbox.

We sat silently
to watch the sunset
on our phones.

Behind a window
I travel the world
with melody carrying the road.
Today is freedom
and tomorrow is open.

I stop

Clear skies in my head,
because when Johnny reigns
it pours.

A lure
left
taken.

Thank you,
for a beautiful night.

I drove at night
on the left were frosted clouds sleeping on the horizon.

I drove at night
on the left a red ribbon blew in the wind like the hair of the iconic Cossette.

I drove at night
on the left solid and flashing lights made me think of Christmas.

I drove at night
and arrived home.

You came to me in a dream,
O Specter of Sensibility,
to help discern the distant
drowning dirges of dying doubt

We walked—our party’s steps
quite quicker than our own.
As the gap grew greater,
they disappeared into the night.

All alone along an amphitheater’s path,
my ghostly guardian gave life
to the story I had wished to hear.
Clarity obtained—each player was one of us.

Eyes straight ahead, she didn’t break stride.
The waves of her voice took charge,
powering the reels that play,
saying, “So, you slept to know?

“I’m here for you and you alone
so you could see me in reality.”
A proper lady she was,
so small talk preceded needs.

She went on to tell of how,
“patience at present is prudent.”
“And purposefully perplexing,” I thought,
listening in reverie.

“Just as I return oft in your dreams,
so too will what I embody come back.”
She was cold so my arms became alms.
We sat in acceptance until the crowd caved in around.

I've yet to forget,
slews of verses on paper
written just for you.

I embarrass myself nightly
but am I always to blame?
To look is as easy
as staring lovingly at a leopard,
whose cubs cry from woeful pangs.
Yet I oblige,
for it's easier for me to fall
than to entertain, tame or sate.