i look every which way
in the mirror
to find something I like
about myself
but all I see is
a mistake

In that beautiful
Moment of first waking,
When the watery sunlight
Filters through the window
And coaxes my eyes to open,
I can nearly forget
The screams in the middle of the night,
Can nearly forget
The feeling of fresh tears on my cheeks,
Can nearly forget
That your side of the bed lies empty.
Nearly, but not quite.
And the pain of remembering
tears my soul apart.

I left the house of the tempest brewing,
Spinning like a rod, spun into flame
And came upon the redwood forest,
Eternal, shouting out heavens name.

The sun was indifferent, the creek shuffled
Its lament, the birds fluted their dirge—
I was so small, in the red giants grove,
Yet, felt so beloved, my pain was purged.

And I warmly came to see again—
My eyes, through the needles drove,
What a trifling is ones fleeting mood,
How true, heroic, immortal is my love.

Anger strikes up bad memories
even though it has been buried
years and centuries ago

all the good times
seem so blank in the back pages
like a trigger for deletion

oh this one time
sorry seems just passing by--
echoed the blind man.