The fiery orange reds
and forest pine greens
with highlights of yellows
and all the colors in between

The mossy southern oaks
and wild growth that runs
from virginia creeper
up around wooded trunks

the early morning mist is thick
as the waters of the bayou where it sits




(recipe for a good evening)

collect and gather wood to start a fire
dry, split, and place a top a pine needle ball
   douse in "drip," if you've got an oil field friend

Then light and let it roar,
sit down with a guitar,
  an' play the night in.

When my dreams are stepped on
There will be days like this
Heart broken by the illusion of impossible

~
On a clear day
I can see my sister

It's between six and seven o'clock
and a beautiful expanse of water, reflecting her cultivated shores

a nod, a smile,
through the vapor

castles in the air, ruling over
the available light

then in a moment, she's lost
half her height

and bent into arcades, like those
of a Roman aqueduct

evaporate before me she will

the fading of family, a returning
to cold white at the dawning
of an unfriendly expanse
~

Waking up
Early morning rituals
Watching the sunrise
Surveying the blue sky
Enjoying the coolness
Admiring the beauty outside
Anticipating the day
Waiting for coffee or tea
Breakfast
What to have
Checking out the news
Being alive
Savoring the pure joy of it

The vinyl record just rotates
in circuits of unforseen loops
queued in the unending circles
revolved strains of melodies

Yet every song remains the same ​stamped of a watered down clef
rooted fragile moments of numbness
gated inside notions with bricks

Even if the sun roars in a trumble
she remains that inhibited builder
a human, that fragile sort of a woman
a protective rooted architect of life

We talk, and the cigarette burns in small moments of waiting. You move your finger from my vest strap to my collarbone. My breath catches, slides into a warm pool of want. I slip my own finger in circles at its edge, and you take a step closer.

Count up raindrops or snowflakes or tiny grains of sand,
way too many to hold in your hand
each one unique and perfect in its ubiquity