we met again,
two strangers,
carrying the same memories.

time stopped too,
when our eyes met,
whispered hello.

but this time,
we walked away,
knowing the future.

Sunset kisses,
the ocean’s skin.
Orange light cradles,
in the waves' arms.
And the sky’s darkness,
finds a home,
in the ocean's heart.

I endure -
                this is
the way of the unblessed
                in a land of storms;
A moment expands -
        scared river on the hills
                 then back
tumbling
sandwalking
                 in a land of worms;
Holding hope
                 by the beat of heart,
closures
        ever birthing
                 in a land of proms;
And then a candle
burns through -
fragrant at night;
        The blessed
                  have their heavens;
The unblessed,
                  satori;

when you went away
to join the war
i made a bracelet for you

(rose quartz
labradorite
and jet)

and when you returned,
you gave it back

much to my dismay

but now
the bracelet
is on my wrist
everyday

to remind me
about
what you gave away

We used to talk about
going
to Montana--escaping it all,
building a log cabin and
making a garden.  We were
going to hunt and fish for
food--make rugs and
hats from the fur.

But look at us now.
You live in the
city and drive a Volvo.
Goldfish in a glass bowl.
You even taught your
cat to walk on
a leash.
Can you see the
sky with all the smog?

I'm not any better.
Living under the bridge;
the only hunting I do is
for cans, the rare and
illusive
aluminum nickel, so that
I can buy *****.  

I walk down to the
river's edge and look up at
the expansive sky.
I close my eyes.
And when I open them, baby,
we're in Montana.

but I am old enough now
to have my fears comfort me;
and have the things I love
chain me in fear -

In "these days" I consider
it luck, if the the movie
I stream doesn't use F-word.

In the "good old days"
I'd get a back hand hit,
if I ever said S-word.

My grandma, would give a,
Biblical slam, if I muttered,
D-word.

Someone's fetching a switch.
if I called, my sister a B-word

Yet in the "old days" I
do recall my black
friend, braying like a
donkey, calling me H-word,
and we would snicker, when
I called him N-word.

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.