The way
you talk about
it, you seem to think that
time really does stand still in my
embrace

The taste
of my cigar
and the whiskey in my
gullet can't fill the pit inside
my chest

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

The work
isn't easy,
and doesn't satisfy,
but the burn of twilight whisky
sure helps.

So many
years behind me,
but instead of wisdom
all I seem to have acquired is
regret

great ship in the fog
creaks low on a rising tide
rusting whale in pain

Our connection
is a pale moon above
and stars that shine
they are yours as much as ever they were mine
we feel the grey of falling rain
the warmth of joy and the chill of pain
we live and we love, we laugh and die
under a yellow sun and the same blue sky

dawn in the garden
fragrant blossoms fill my cup
hot tea with lemon

Hear the dripping branches sing
when the icy breath of winter
melts to kiss the waiting lips of spring

To be a bird
free on the breeze
taking in the charm of trees
to feel the light and taste the air
is not a gift that we can share
shackled to the ground it seems
we must content ourselves with dreams
leaving you to own the sky
while we look up and long to fly