The men chuckle lightly, almost insinuating a secret.
Their eyes dart one to another, and I know this at least:
the men are horrible at keeping secrets.
“Why do you all chuckle?” I ask with complete and utter resolve.
Again, all their eyes darted to one another.
They dart back mainly at the Captain.
So I darted my eyes to see this secret message.
His eyes are dark, moody, all seriousness.
The message is unclear to me, yet instant for them.
Wind starts to pick up. The dry air swirls for mere seconds, dissolving into a broiling heat, contained in this valley.
High hills, and dry stretches bake us into a frenzy.
The men start to holler and yelp, as they do.
They all run to the pond. It is a very large pond.
There is another larger one behind the Barn as well.
These ponds were fashioned out of the earth by years of the non evolving men who claim stakes to this land.

Some times its moments like these
that actually convince me that I should stay
listening to a new album
way passed when I should have shut my eyes

listening to you on call with her
and laughing so hard because of me and the other's shared looks
that I feel sore when I wake up

walking to a spot that I considered forgotten
that I considered my own
and sharing it with you

you see,
taking flight has always appealed to me
especially when the only one who knew my pain
just rubbed salt in the wound
cut off my arm
and took it as a souvenir

Now I can't bear taking flight
because that would mean leaving you behind
one of the only ones who understood me

Yes, you were one of the only ones who understood me
You, the luck up my sleeve
and if I ever decide to leave
you are the one whom gave me pause
I will feel the greatest sorrow when I leave you behind

It is moments like these,
laying on a rug listening to what I will be listening to
for months and mounths
and thinking about you

and not just that
for my mind is a monster
and when you saw
you accepted it

Sitting on a cold couch
talking of others doomed romance
was one of the best things you could give me
for I could finally be the true me

The shared looks that we give each other
when it makes people mad
Oh, those looks
those looks that I will never want to miss
never want to forget

And oh how I wish to hold your hand
oh how I wish to cradle you in my arms
but all I have is your eyes to cradle
and your words are all I can hold

you mean more to me than you could ever know
and those little stolen moments that we make ours

Yes, you were the one I could at last love
the one who finally accepted my mind
Yes, you are my love
and You, the luck up my sleeve
and if I ever decide to leave
you are the one whom gave me pause
I will feel the greatest sorrow when I leave you behind

Its moment like these
when the music fills my mind
when it flows through my head to my feet
and all I can feel is that place
when I want to stay the most

It is moments like these
when I listen to the analytical words of another
and sit by my friends side

Its moments like this
when I am tightly warped in an embrace
on the top of a mountain with a cross
feeling the true love of God for the first time

Its moments like these
when I miss you all so badly
that I can hardly breath
but I know I will see you again tomorrow

Its all of these moments
When I finally see my friends who have become family after a period of absence
When I can lay in a bed and rest when I truly feel weary
When I cry and I cry
because in the end, I know I will have to leave it all
My friends who are now my family
The tree that has now become familiar
The radio with its iconic voices
The lemonade with its iconic tastes
The music with its wonderful sounds
The park with its heart wrenching sunsets
The house with my friends as family rooms

Those things all give me pause
because in the end
leaving will happen
whether I want to go
or not

but I hope that you know
out of all of those things
out of all of those beautiful, tragic, wonderful, aw striking things
you are truly the ones who I will miss

I love you all,
I love you all more deeply than you could ever know

The light September breeze,
reminds me of who I used to be,
A girl without so much worry,
A girl who wasn't judged for,
being who she was.

She left home,
And she had never felt so alone.
So she walked,
sometimes she rode with strangers,
Who seemed to really understand when she talked.

I just wanted to go North,
and see the snow.
But I wasn't doing much good,
cause my wits were starting to go,
And I hoped.

She hoped for an end,
Among the strange, beautiful places,
just around the bend.
And she found some,
In trespassing and chases.

Which is why I ended here,
in a dry town.
No whisky or beer.
Wearing a pale blue,
hospital gown.

i think i've lost the feeling in my fingertips
and the words that
graze my lips
slip
and dissipate
into meaningless thoughts
onto a page
it's the banging against my window panes
the clang and drip of rain
it's the constant reminder of the sun
that 'yes, i live'
'yes, i am here'
'yes, i will stay'
'for as long as you will let me'
it's like listening to the sound of crashing waves
against the shore
as i dip my toes
in the moonlight
but
there is that fear
of the unknown
the slippery tongues of the abyss
that lap and lick against my heels
the tremble of my lip
the shudder down my spine
as it snakes around my legs
it's the longingness to runaway
and disappear
to leave without a trace
no new names, no fake identities
not a smidge of existence
no footprints left behind.

As he sinks down,
Down into the soil
he recalls everything.

Remembers what it was like
to taste the sky, and run
through fields of flowers
and he wonders if the man
whose hand he holds
is worth losing everything.

He thinks of the kitchen table,
and of the note he left for Mother:
"Going now. Back by spring."

He locks the door,
puts the last bag in the trunk,
and as he gets into the car
he looks back once
before turning away from
the sun.

Afraid of her waves,
I steer into the trees,
fashion my nest
From the oars and leaves.
Teach oldies to the birds,
mice, the harmonies,
squander afternoons
waiting for the breeze.

Afraid of her waves,
I fly toward the heavens
to roam with pilgrims
crying rivers and oceans.
I listen to their stories
of ruin and misfortune.
And discover boats can be
both frightened and broken.

Afraid of her waves,
I crash into the moon,
bug the man inside,
a bit of a recluse,
with questions rounding
How the ocean moves.
He bellies of an ache,
But I know it's just a bruise.

Afraid of her waves,
I spin off seven rings
slingshot out this galaxy
on black and speckled wings,
tumble through a universe
where no and everything
look so eerily the same
that my boat begins to sink.

Afraid of her waves,
I row anywhere else
until walls crumble down
until oars row themselves.
When I scale her summits,
gobbled by her swell,
I peek over my shoulder
where the sea, she's ever still.