such a thin line separates us
the living from the dead
the spirit that is free
from that which is bound
I have felt your gentle touch
and heard your whispered plea
I sense your presence
across the open seas of time
are you my love from a distant past
a kinder world
a quiet life?
I have come to believe that you wait for me
there
just across the line
just beyond the fray
where spirits dwell

You, my sister,
are the one friend
who has known me
all my life
and
I've known you most of yours
less
three years before I came to be
and
a few for which
I have no memory

I wish
I could recall

when I was new
did you lift me?
or stroke
my forehead?
did you sing
to me?

did you gaze
at tiny feet
and
hands
in wonder
and
amazement?

were we pals
even then?
even before my eyes
could focus
on your face
to see you
to know you?

did our spirits
know each other
and
bond in some mysterious way?
planning even then
their escapades
of
running
bare-chested, barefooted
in blazing summer sun
circling our tree
so "far" from home?
our adventures

did they see
the time ahead
when the fog would come
and
confuse?
when we'd each
be alone to struggle
with who we are?

did they know
we'd find our way
back again
never completely losing sight
of our special bond?
a bond temporarily
blurred by life
by grown up sorrows
deaths
separations

grim details
of life

like a broken branch
on a tree that hangs
by not more
than a thread
hangs on through
all the storms
clinging with all
its energy

finally
growing anew
connecting fully

better
than before

will you love me when I'm dead
when all the words are put to bed
when all the painful thoughts are shed
and you can live in bliss

will you love me when I'm dead
when shadows let you sleep instead
when ghosts no longer make you dread
my malignant goodnight kiss

will you love me when I'm dead
when I cannot feed your hungry head
when all your thoughts will be spoon fed
I'll await your soul in the abyss

Can such a force cease fire,
When all is lost for help?
Forces to cease at all,
Where all the lost to dwell?
Firm water wells sought out,
With those above to quench.
All real and distorted,
They cast down the buckets.
What lies beneath are lies,
With no water pulled up.
Only a truth to see,
Masking the dirt below.
What such forces to cease,
Can they unstoppable?

Esther
You"re on my mind
every second,
every minute,
every hour, of every day.

The way you look,
The way you smile,
The way you touch,
The words you say;

Simply takes my breath away

Waves of mystic wind born this moment
the first cut into hallowed ground
I search relics of the ****** battle of Cool Spring
yelps of Soldiers, first blurred
then sharpening into individual clarity
rein down like passing bullets upon my ears
shadows run along the hill that drops off to the creek
as tree limbs orchestrate
thunderous hooves dart past and through me
leaves lift and swirl like tiny tornadoes
I click off the machine and remove the shovel
from the gaping wound
silence falls and in this empty wood
my thoughts of sorrow are heard
upon the wound a button lay
pristeen as the day it fell
some hundred fifty years ago
a shadow dips below the hill
I take the button
and leave a tear
for the souls of Cool Spring