.
Perhaps our souls
.
will bump in the knight
who planted seed
to grow in your path
but failed to prune
the olive branches
where peace is
the stifling silence
killing
your spring time
garden

If you no longer look
to heaven for my reign
then let me break my boughs
and be your switch
for if you take the olive branch
from these gnarled hands
I cannot promise
you'll see a bloom moreover
but I'll water that baby
til summer is over
.

.
brush against my soul
.

where
the Arizona desert

meets your red cliffs
.
and the sound
of your voice...
.
the laughter...

every sigh...
I counted
.
each breath
.
each

one

slipped
past your lips
.
I wish
I could
do that

again

soon

more often

one day

because

my feathers
once flew

as I felt
your smiles

brush

against my soul
.

.

Today I held a little bird
fallen from its nest
its downy dreams
tucked between my fingers
wanting nothing less
than to be held
and kept safe

that is giving
love

yesterday I held you in my heart

rising from a downy bower
where fingers had played
like spiders weave webs
pulling lines of words
hung like memories
tasting of you

that is needing
love

tonight these fingers clench

as grasping lips beg to be licked
searching shadows less downy
where loneliness **** hard
and still sweet smells linger
as if my tear drops stained
your sheets of music

that is missing
love
.