The leaves all fluttered in imperfect synchronicity.
Like a dance,
unchoreographed,
yet so beautifully so.
The day was filled with flaws,
but the pure, effervescent blue sky
against the too-large green of sprouting trees
made all the rest melt away.
A hill that was covered by snow last month
now screams with yellow dandelions.

When humanity fails,
man may always return
to where we were never meant to leave:
to the blue, green, and yellows of nature.

anchorage alaska, 9:40 a.m
the mountains, 9:41
the dead trees, 9:42
the snow, 9:43
your face, woven into the scenery, 9:44

it is beginning to hollow,
the night, kindling it's daggers around the day,
and i tell you, so silent
as to not wake our voices yet,
"the train is coming."

you are on the boulders,
naked feet,
shoes lost in the shore
and you look at me and smile
and my eyes crease,
like thin wrinkles,
like wire, pulling them shut,
and i smile back.

i cannot think.
the train is approaching,
rumbling over the tracks
like a thunderstorm,
like an avalanche.
and you open your mouth to scream,
but it comes out a roar.

like accumulating rain
in the groove of a gutter,
you're there beside me
and we're both screaming.

and I can feel myself lurching
towards the rails
because at 9:55,
as the train passes us,
i look over
at the naked boulders
at the rising tide
at the burning tracks
and you're gone.

The night wrapped its skeletal arms
back around your ghostly form.
the rain had stopped,
the gutter was clean,
and everything
was a miserable empty

It's hard to feel sad
when the sun shines in rays,
persistent as a mother,
and just as sweet and caring.

Green, microscopic leaves
flutter like the wings of fairies.
If cleanliness is next to godliness,
I feel like I'm in the clouds.

In Arizona last week
the migrating Painted Lady butterflies
were dancing and flitting
in stunning numbers.

In waves across the desert,
they'll live for about 6 weeks, if lucky.
Over the course of generations,
they'll migrate to Alaska.

One soon-to-be summer day,
a distant relative of this Painted Lady
will float on the breath of Eagle River valley towards
Mt. Susitna to waltz in the light of the midnight sun.

I can see it in mine, and yours too - the corners
of eyes and mouth sag, weighted by our slushy urban slog.
Unurbane, we melt into the night like Dali's clocks,
Counting, counting the minutes of loss.

Soon I'll look into the sun that cleans
every corner and highlights the dust,
and diamonds the snow, and delivers
from darkness my laden soul.

I bargain, beguile, beg for ten degrees
to turn disconsolate rain into sanguine snow.
So snow now,
                   now
                          snow,
               so we may play in the light of the darkest day.

back and better than ever
so distant and numb
completely frozen in an never ending hell
a different speed
walking alone in a blur
able to survive the ingrained routine
but by night
that's when it creeps up on you
that unbearable pain in your chest
sobbing completely alone
wanting to give up more than ever
unable to care about the promised better future
stuck in only know
thinking it will never change
a prisoner of irrationality
lost in how it makes you feel
it told me there's no way out but to leave
it wasn't me
it changed me
took over me
it didn't let me write
only know as it has been weakened

One of those days where everything is too much
you feel the weight of everyone's expression
words and emotions drag you down
suffocating your fight
every sentence slowly drains you
every light is too bright
noise piercing your every cell to the core
the sky begins to fall on you
gravity against you
your body is dragged down
the pressure is too much to bare
the world weighing down your mind
your mind weighing down the world
the ache for silence
the need to be alone
the anchor of life's energy attached to you
the demand of everything needing to be felt
the prison of forced empathy
one of those days where you feel everything

I fear living for someone
centring someone in my universe
I fear not not wanting to be alone
constant noise in my silence
I fear wasting my time on someone
putting my life on hold for them to leave
I fear a lifetime of small talk
being a product of their routines and races
I fear not finding belonging
not being in control
I fear the prison of my mind
never finding the person I don't fear with
I fear not being special in the insignificance
never being not afraid to be vulnerable
I fear only existing

It's all a haze
a frustrating haze
feeling too much
thinking so deeply
I see the outside life
the routine
the race
a bystander watching
the life we're all abosrbed into
I can't explain
I can't put into words
It's too big
too complex for the limit of our vocabulary
I'm left here in a haze
looking for the words
truth will never just be there
hidden
behind the focus we are taught to see
I'm trying to see
It's all a haze