I watch the stars dance above like fireflies on a summer night
The breeze takes my cares away and I am left with an awe that rustles  in the willows
It brings a scent that lingers like the warmth of a lovers embrace and a reflection which looms on the pond
And I stare for much too long knowing it will go away
Dancing among the grass the wind carries the chirping sounds of crickets as they converse their secrets to the night
And my heart swells with joy at sight of the radiant smile the moon shines down my being
A dancing memory on the shores of the cedar pond

I wanted to see you where the years were kind,
inescapably etched and displayed like
smooth stones spread out on velvet;
but I wouldn't ask. I rummaged through zippers
and heavy things.

On a cool summer night we heard a hiss of
broken stars across the desert sky
and looked up in time to see one pass over head
like a science fiction rocket ship.
It was a moment with you I will never forget.

It's funny how things are settled or settling
and divided by extremes,
jealousy   -   anger   -   hurt   -  houses  -  
etched stones  -  broken stars,
stuff  you  can't  find  words  for,  
stuff  you  wish  y­ou'd  written  down,
words  that  end  up  on  gravestones.

So leave me  with my imagination and your beauty,
maybe some nostalgia as my muse, add one more thing
for sure, make my children our children
not   half - me - half - devil - children
and maybe I wouldn't have to run,
wouldn't have to start a war.

Maybe I could be happy without
your etched stones.

Maybe all I really need is a broken star.

In the minutes before sleep last night,
through stellar static, astral snow,
a poem, half dreamt, was born
and died; I drifted off and let it go.

Just one line survived the night;
that line will have to be enough.
I wrote it down before it faded:
sometimes we were good at love.

Panic strikes me
as I realize that
I'm alone

Alone for the first time--
and I don't know
what to do with myself

All these people
Insistent beeping, buzzing,
rolling, shutting

My collective mind
Unraveling
Before my eyes as I have
No one to talk to
to
Connect
with

Floundering
thumbing through
my contacts
to find someone

Anyone

To make me feel wanted,
to feel that my company,
even if through a phone,
is wanted, that I am
desirable

As I fold in on myelf
the Layers turning inward,
eating themselves--

The waitress leans down and asks:

Is everything okay?

I respond, muttering:

mmhm.

It's killing me from the outside in
you know...

But I don't say that

As the layers fold,
the only thing that remains
is a scared little girl
just as frightened as she was
the day she opened her eyes
underwater
and looked around
and realized how eerily
vast and deep the water was...

It still scares her.
It scares me.
And I realize
that the one thing
I can't stand more than
Anything
more than death itself:
is being alone.

Why?

Because when I am
alone with my thoughts
That vastness
that deep ocean of nothingness
bathed in a burning, purified chlorine
Haunts me

Because I cannot fill it,
not even with the deepest of thoughts,
the most vivid sentiments
Cannot satisfy the depths
of the reflective blue against
a slate of unfeeling cement

It's like my life is stuck in slow motion.

An iceberg floating in the ocean.

With no real sense of direction.

Cruisin' by without detection.

Without purpose.

A taxi is just a car when it's not in service.

Worthless...

Depending on how you view it.

Living is a privilege, depending on how you do it.

So what's it mean?

Being that my life is in yellow while the rest of the world seems to be in green?

Green as in go.

Yellow as in slow.

Eventually we all hit red though.

And everything comes to halt.

Suddenly life flashes before your eyes.

Memories storm our minds.

Then we think back, about those who we have left behind.

And vice-versa.

But its too late for any reconciliation.

Now death is the sole recipient for any form of anticipation.

So we are left to question..

Where is my next destination?

A paradise in the sky, or an eternity of damnation?

That's assuming there is life after death.

Honestly, I don't know if there is.

I don't know if I want to know.

What I know is that there is a red light down the road.

But then again..

I don't need a light to tell me when to stop, slow, or go.