I guess it's
Been four years now
She turned up here homeless
She was old
Even then
Those used teats
The grey on her jowl
Lonely. So loving.
She's followed me
Like my shadow
Ever since
And don't believe
A dog can't smile
In my absences
She'll sit by the door
Until I come back
I'm 60 now.
Just had a birthday.
And this black Labrador
Beauty gave me the honor
Of crawling up next
To me as I went to sleep
She rarely has done before.
And it made me wonder
How I want to die before her
I don't think I could stand
Losing her
But thought
Of what would happen
To her
If I went before
And this isn't poetry
It's a love story
About two lonely orphans
Who found someone
Who loves them more
Than life itself
And how
Much love
Can mean

Themes thesis'
As common as leaves
As seasons
And round how it spins
Upon that hill
I sit upon
Late for work
Again
Contemplating
Whippoorwhills
Doves
And squirrels play
Another day
Sitting
Upon a hill
Like a child
With no
Worries
Again
For
Just a while

A where's
Just is
Becomes the say we
Meet there on
The lawn
Nervous feet dig
Trembling eyes
Clasp
Wanting

It may be my weakness
That I write and live
Without revisions
Or blend endlessly
My painted blue
white horizons.
It may mean I am
True or careless yet
I don't care
A bit. Just trying
To live
Honorably
Speak truth
May I someday
Make all the words
Arrange in a flow
That portrays
How a man with
Heart needs no erasures
No fan brush
Or cleaners
Just a bit of spit
To wet his finger
As he composes.

I like my companions
My. Troop.
They are
The silence wise
Introspective.
I respect
An introvert.
There are deep
Things rumbling.
Thoughts and why's and
Seeds.
I stand by
Them.
Silently.

Let me just lie here a while
Sweet love
Let me catch a breath
No
I am anything but sad
Just let me
Remember

There, into the many,
Bouncing off walls floors
Ceilings, there
In the white hall,
Splendid marble busts
In coves all similarly
White
Alone,
Wandering the
Edges of the plaster
Grandeur
Cove tops the gilded
Gold of the frames holding
An hour of blood work
A life of toil,
A sampling
Of the fibre
Of a soul
Kept
On display
Forever
Tells
A story
Makes a foil

Today
I'm only partially cloudy
Still the salty tears mingle
On my cheeks
On my face
As I look up
At the memory of that day
Of the jet planes trail
Carrying her homeward.
I wonder how can a broke man
Ever cross so many miles
Or ever get her back.
Its been holidays and weeks
A birthday coming up
Since the day we had to part
And still it's as poignant
As clear as it happened today.

Still I stand here
With that look in my eye
Dreaming of a clear sky
An airplane landing
Her and I rushing
Together fast
Warm nights
Here
Here
In dreamland

And
I've unbecome hinged
Came from natural
To succumb the raspy
Cry of a leaf
In the night falling
Despairingly
Against wind
Again to crash on bark
Wingless helpless
At fortune's whims;
Crying hymns not heard
Over nature's soft breeze,
Nor the whispers of the
Left behinds nor the tales of
My fellows since gone
Or a bellow not one
Of the infant bud dying,
Just mine, here: t'was not fair mine nor their
Suffering.
And I fell away
Into a sun
That melted my veins into
Dust. And I cried.
To no avail
As we all
Must.

Listen to the sparrows
Sing
Their wings
A lullabye
Try to imagine
You in my arms
Come
Stay
A while,
Love.

Wanting a thing to hold onto
A piece of a tree a twig
The fur of a cat
The psalms in the air
Wanting

At its best a thirst
Hunger pangs
The mist
A salty sea breeze
On aqua
Cliffs

Selecting a rock
On the beaches
Drifts
So many so
Soft

Hold that thought of
Soft squishes
Standing
An eye
To the
Sky
A hand on a
Rock

A
Breath

My reply to her Madame's Inquisition was to reply
Simply , "music" , Madame.
"We are having a fine discourse
On the advantages of a six string orchestra as opposed to a banjo man"  I leaned in closer to her daughter's ear whispering,
"Meet me in the garden at midnight and I shall further the conversation".  To which she leaning over close to my ear replied softly in a purr, "to what purpose should I have the audacity or interest to rouse from sleep and find my way barefoot into a dew covered chilly night?"  
"And, so you know, I find your advances and suppositions rather casual and presumptively
Accusatory on the nature of my innocence."
"No, never should I or would I presume, dear!"
" I just wanted to give you a goodnight kiss and speak more
Of Mozart and how your ear Smell's of cinnamon and peach cream.".  
"God ****** Brutus!".
"OK!!  Allright"
"I'm drunk tired let's just get it on and go to sleep".

Its a hunger
A thirst
Desire is
It's like oxygen
Or
A savage beast
Needs to be met

Shower
Curtained eyes
Only nakedness
Behind