Ivy-covered garden,
soft evening breeze,
whistles through the beaten wooden trellis,
that once supported the climbing vine,
now parted from the feeble frame.

Luscious green leaves,
stems grow strong.
Trellis yearns for yesterday,
when days were longer,
filled with innocence,
garden now full of abundance,
overgrown with bittersweet memories.

Ivy once a young sprightly sprig,
now elegant,
overrun and overtired,
from her trellis.

Jasmine perfumes the sweet,
thick summer air.
Ivy’s memories,
hanging onto her mighty trellis,
strong reliable foundation,
dancing together,
season after season.

Days grew shorter,
the wood grew older,
ivy thirsted with lust and desire,
to spread her leaves.

In the garden,
the trellis still stands,
rain falls down his cheeks.
A smile cracks in the wood,
a smile as wide,
as its rounded arch.

The ivy still beautiful,
after all these years.
Worn, tired and broken,
faithful remains her trellis.

These tear ducts are barren, dry, and void of overflowing release.
My sleep is filled with dreams that my eyes be filled with streams.
The suffering is the easiest part.
Getting through this arid landscape is difficult, if not impossible.
The window opens to the breeze
as I smell the sweet summery air through savory trees.
How I recall the past and days of hurt.
Times I wish I could be even as high as dirt.
I wander through my own Forest of Arden,
not feeling care,
not a scare,
life in full color I dare…say.
Cobalt blue filled the sky.
Tear ducts still empty—that well, still dry.
As I’ve grown older,
the callouses of life have made me stronger,
perhaps why I can cry no longer.
If I could only wash my troubles away.
Tears, please come without delay.

What a difference a year makes.
Within one rapid revolution around the sun,
there were new people I counted upon,
and now they’re done.

New places,
new faces,
new discoveries,
as one single, solitary spring,
yielded new blooms,
as life began anew.

Friendships forged,
and favors done.
From simple basic bonds,
as fresh excitement filled my days.
Sounds of Van Morrison,
sang through endless summer nights,
but only after the summer shower.

So many conversations about life,
and the many triumphs,
tragedies and places,
from the past,
into the present,
and in between.

A new home found,
a home loved.
A home with friends,
these brothers and sisters.

On one occasion,
powerful torrents of rain,
wind and devastation,
moved up the coast,
as my family moved closer to me,
and I took care of them.

With bread broken in the darkness,
that night when the power went out,
and wine guzzled to the last drop by candlelight,
hearty toasts toasted to strong friendships,
toasts to good times,
toasts to loyalty.
What a difference a year makes.

Then the leaves fell hard,
not only on the common walkway we shared,
but upon the camaraderie,
that was forged,
and on those days,
that I thought would never end.

As temperatures dropped,
The friends grew cold too.
With all the favors done,
guidance given,
affection offered,
timelessness now became uselessness.

When the snow fell,
these flakes also scattered one-by-one.
Away they went.
Away.

Then the spring sun rose,
while that cold wind continued to blow,
through the trees that once carried,
friendship’s friendly leaves.

No more bread.
Empty bottles of wine.
As the doves scattered,
they vanished like dust,
and these friendships disappeared,
while my heart banged a broken beat.

But a lesson was taught and learned,
protect each month,
and guard each day,
because what a difference a year makes along the way.

A great deal has happened,
since we last talked.
Actions speak louder than nonsense,
and nonsense speaks my language.
It’s my native tongue.

Anyway, I visited hell twice,
and when I went back a third time,
a sign said that it was closed for maintenance so instead,
I went out for a Fuego Especial Burrito.
Later that night,
my stomach felt worse,
then the pains any hell could give me.

A great deal has happened since,
we last fought and I subsequently left you.
My new Keurig machine spits out,
Tepid, ****** drops of putrid sludge.
I guess the warranty was too busy,
holding up the refrigerator to be mailed in.
You used to take care of those things so well.

I joined a yoga class to release the stress,
from broken coffee makers,
and from what life had dealt me,
but I had too many problems,
with the positions…
The cobra bit the warrior,
and the downward dog ran right to the tree.
I still have lots of stress in my life,
I remember you had a way to make it disappear.

A great deal has happened,
since we last met.
The leaves turned orange,
during autumn’s depressing annual drop,
and they vanished,
like I did from you.

I learned quite a bit,
about people,
and what moves them.
I learned much about myself too,
and how I’m not much different than most.
Love is my motivator.

A great deal has happened,
since we last walked together.
Although I still watch the ocean,
break along the sandy shoreline,
I now do it with my shadow.
My shadow is much quieter than you,
and I dislike the silence.

At night I forget the chaotic day,
problems with work, family and my insecurities.
I realize it doesn’t **** to be me,
but there is still something missing…

A great deal has happened,
since we last talked…
I’ve endured two trips and burritos from hell,
the changing seasons,
I tore my groin at yoga,
and I stood in silence at the sea.
But one thing has remained constant throughout,
I’ve never given up hope,
that one day,
we may share a cup of ****** coffee.

Bright green tufts,
of grass grow in the yard.
Each blade climbs steadily,
each sway gently,
in the early,
evening summer breeze.

The summer breeze,
gently touches your soft cheek,
as do I.
I caress its softness,
the soft, skin’s purity.

Your purity,
reaches inside of me.
Touching my mind,
grabbing hold of my soul.

As my soul rises,
my eyes rise too.
I look at your face,
and gaze into your eyes.

Your precious eyes,
stare out the window.
Intently you glance,
at the bright green tufts,
of grass that grows in the yard.