WILD FLOWERS

of the elements
seen and unseen
the wild flowers grow
as colorful pinpoints-up through cracks in
the pavement, against a mottled gray
backdrop, where did
they come from
who knows, who cares- just relish
in the fact, in the midst of a blight, reminds one
of a Jackson Pollack canvas-
taking shape, ready to breathe life

By Michael Perry

SUNDAY AFTERNOON DRIVE

we put the top down
for our Sunday afternoon drive
just to get away for the day, escape
the confines of the city limits
such a lovely day
the sun was high over head
the clouds almost non-existent, perfect
time to go- it was
a bee-line to the expressway
traffic was light
we were making good time, as landscapes
passed by, cars, other vehicles too
neither of us spoke, while
we took it all in, at some point
we were forced to brake quickly
there was lots of commotion up ahead
thick black smoke, two cars engulfed in flames
a third overturned, tire tracks streaked across all lanes
red, white and blue lights everywhere
police in uniform directing traffic through
the breakdown lane as people  were standing about
both sides of the blacktop, they seemed
in shock, crying, all standing still, I saw them
each one, as if reading their minds, saw in their eyes
trying to tell me stories, of which I had no clue, or
was it the feelings for them, in this situation, would I
if I knew them better- yet their stories were not mine
if I could would I?- then we passed by, making up distance
once we cleared the scene we were able to proceed
we went at a much slower speed, considering
what we had just seen, the rest of the day
was uneventful -we ate lunch at a quaint diner set back
from the highway; reaching our apartment at dusk
we turned on the tv, we sat in our  matching chairs
settling  in, we watched the news, nothing had changed
since morning, still violence, mayhem, seemed everywhere
as we smiled to ourselves, glad to be unaffected, we clinked
two glasses sipping our ice cold martini's, shaken, not stirred

By Michael Perry

OF HER 98 YEARS

of her 98 years
the dowager recalls, her life
all of it-still; with such vivid detail
recounting and recalling past loves-and of a life
thoroughly enjoyed-to it's fullest-having no apology
as she endured her life; with no passing
after-thought- if you want, she continues on
I could tell you so much more; if you'd like- as you
politely decline- then she,  with a passing of her
withered hand rebukes your acquiesce, as she turns
her head away from view; whether in contempt -or
pure disdain, as you sit bedside ignored-she then closes
her eyes taking leave-excusing your presence straight away

by Michael Perry

TO COMFORT AN OLD FRIEND

I am here today to comfort an old friend
we go way back -once, we took on the
world, anything was possible, we were best pals
like brothers, willing to do anything for
each other, over years and miles, no matter
what making it through we were invincible, so
we thought, and today I am  sitting by his side
holding his hand, to bring him comfort, ease
his pain for a time, to bring back our youth, that
everlasting prize in our folly we had, if just for
a moment, I will take him there, with each story
I will regale him, recalling memories, to recapture-our
eternal youth, once more,  drawn from a time capsule
I was turning back the years, just for him, I watch his eyes light up
he remembers the details, after a while , he squeezes my hand back
acknowledging it all, then his eyes tell me, enough for one day
he's tired, ready to close  his eyes, I look at him, beginning to
doze, so I lean in to his ear and whisper I'll be back, as I turn to go
his head against the pillow, I am comforted by the fact that
our friendship has survived everything, and so it will, even this

by Michael Perry

THE BEACH AT AUTUMN ON CAPE COD

in the miles of beach sand
only the seagulls and terns remain, this time of year
ready to, dip and soar- crisscross, they target

aiming for the sky
fly high above, or they skit, down along the beach
chasing the horizon at angles to confound

from the east to the west towering cliffs of sand
seem to conquer heights, eroding on the back side
giving sway  to the shifting winds

during a season in change, burnt oranges and browns clash
with the assaulted beach grass
at ones feet constantly, no longer trampled upon

here, where the water stays ice cold, most times
the whales rise and fall off in the distance lingering on
for one last riff until the harsh currents drive them away

and with each sunrise- sunset, life will run it's course
bracing for the bitterness of a north atlantic winter
and the dramatic changes of scenery that are still to come

By Michael Perry

SHE BECOMES

she becomes all the ways
to ease my mind, a place to lay my head
she becomes every song needing to be sung

She becomes  a starting point for love
melodies to be savored
she becomes all the words put into thought    

She becomes all the ways
to capture my heart, more than physical, she becomes
the music I hear, when I look into her eyes, it remains clear

She becomes the anchor I hold on to
when I need to save my life she becomes
a safe harbor I will drift lovingly toward      

She becomes all that I adore, this woman I would die for
she becomes every thought to keep my mind
consumed, she becomes the easiest decision made; a revelation

She becomes my one true love, to stand the test of time
having a  rhythm and rhyme, sweet singer of songs, she becomes
all the reasons why, I live and breathe, say a prayer for

She becomes, my once in a life time, in the moments experienced
my love and salvation, a driving force, so deep down, into my soul
she becomes, the fever I once caught, never truly recovering from

By Michael Perry

WHAT LITTLE HE HAD

when he died
the family came
forward

unannounced
out of the woodwork
to claim

some thought they
were due, what
little he had

to fight over
clothes, a few pictures
a John Deere riding mower

is that
what it takes-
to bring a family around

by Michael Perry

TIME CHANGE

first night of
the time change, still early
there's an eerie glow coming
from the street lamp ready
to leave a sickly green shadow
of the spaces in front and behind me
i am the only one out, i think-
to myself, or am i speaking out
loud, in an attempt to control my fears
setting in so  i keep walking further
thinking how odd comparing my
familiar street i live on, to how
it looks now in the dark, it becomes
this strange, unrecognizable quantity, i can't
seem to quite figure out, like this stranger about
ready to  cross my path, if so, how should i react

by Michael Perry

HOMAGE TO A TREE

the tree, with it's roots, ready to dig deep
to claim a space, to tolerate all that
it will surround, letting the branches rise up
to feel what it receives through it's leaves
by a sun  grateful to share, and gentle rain
slowly becomes the welcome mote, to drink
up, stay strong, sustain itself, ingratiate
further, to encourage growth, for all the
years it will stand tall, unmatched, unsuspecting
until such a time, the unspeakable will happen
through fire, wind, the heavy rains, willing to bring
down this pillar of strength, till nothing else remains

by Michael Perry

VIOLIN
Play me like a violin
with no need for words, right now
to strike the right chord
I am swept away by your spell
in such a way, this intoxicating music
it has me, taken, under your control
I am brought to tears from  
every rise; fall, inflection, in symphony
giving rise to a musical cadence;  our progression of love

By Michael Perry

TILL THE SUN

every time, in a love worth the wait
simply spoken, no need for permission
call it passion -time after time, call it fate

face to face, emotions high, you and I
within our sights ready, here so close
when eyes meet, as if for the first time

you bring me to tears, my dear, my love
without delay, for in this time, a love
built upon, a trust so profound, proven

gently over and over, your lips touch mine
I feel your breath, with a fragrant bliss
against my face, distraction so divine

sweet side of heaven, my case to plead
buried emotions exhumed, deep within
to focus, our every consideration we take heed

while I whisper into your ear, the times blur
no one hears, as your reaction, says it all
encouraging our journey, we move further

with us, willing, here and now, we are truly one
in a touch so close, we feel our hearts beat,lost
to the loving, carried away, all night long till- the sun

By Michael Perry

LITTLE PIECES

she followed him while love was blind
within a heart beat unable to resist his charms
while not so ready to speak up her mind as
the wounding had begun, for in a love corrupt
she at a loss for where to turn, a heart in turmoil
he would not give in, she will never give up
to walk a very thin line, while his anger gripped
like an icy hand, not to be pried, was her feelings
betrayed, her hearts been tripped, all but ignored
with time-needing a spark to stroke it or die, her
feelings delayed within a life turned upside down
a woman scorned a dream denied left in a void
she lives on the edge of a dream delayed all
the little pieces, of her broken one by one wishing
some day to be made whole, hoping to see what she
has been missing all these years, she realizes;  the
loss of time, her heart her soul and her identity are
yet to be revealed, she steps out from under the spell
which has kept her in hex- then, she watches one day
as his eyes are ready to close- within memories died
the trigger plied, she begins to wonder what is next?
sitting there watching him, sifting through all the lies
she stares at the open window beyond, and at the
days first light all is revealed within a new day and
a new morning's sun rise- needing a spark; to stroke
it or die, her feelings delayed are now within grasp a
life turned upside down, a woman scorned, a dream
denied left in a void, she lives on the edge of a dream
delayed, of her, little pieces, broken one by one, finally
made whole shes ready to see, what, she knows she's
never seen, to have missed it all , no longer left behind
those little pieces made whole, her heart her soul and
her identity in place: she is;  finally in control of her life

By Michael Perry

WITH THOUGHTS OF YOU

with thoughts of you how can I compare
this or any- to another day, being the same
without you in it-for I want to be selfish, wanting
you for another day, if possible; like before without
even speaking, using any words, we had a language all
our own; to communicate, all our hopes and dreams
into a promise;  that was meant to keep us immune from
being apart for any length of  time- so then how is it
I let you go-for real- without putting up a fight, when
not even your memory will suffice, I need your flesh and bone
for the comfort; now the lack there of- as I comprehend
what's happened; and the fact that; while, you- were
in your sick bed;  I let you down when you needed
me the most, making myself blind to the fact; avoiding
even eye contact; and ready to shut out the thoughts of, I was
not ready to hear,- and you trying in your weakened state
to let go-I would not have it-now it's too late- to this day
I will never bring myself to think of the word;      good-bye

by Michael Perry

TO COME THIS CLOSE

who, by god
help us-what
have we
done
to ourselves
when- we did it-to us
-with backs were turned- where to
now,  as we run-to see the light
give in,  our take away
or stay put-
so why
should it matter, still
it does
can't you see-how
right now, if one
we all, act
get ready to do it- open your eyes
realize-to come this close
it's yours, my life-left to live-
if not hands up, no not yet
no never, or collapse under the weight
give it away, take it back, will we
should we, or surrender, in spite of it
all-to see through, for what end
too tired, we fight through, continue to
get hit and back up from - all the distractions
that seem to come here, there, every where  
at us -as we endure, disseminate, it all in, our own way

by Michael Perry

DREAMERS

all of my life
i never questioned your intentions
i believed in you, without hesitation
you always beckoned; like a beacon
calling me, to this home, my home, i only know
i was brought here, wanting to be just like you
to yearn for be a part of; be considered a native son
if only you would recognize me as so- with
your eyes on me, i only want to be welcomed for real
and the safe harbor, that only you can provide
with no judgement from you, i would take this journey
work for, fight for, die for, i have made the sacrifice  

by Michael Perry

THE PLEASURE OF

the pleasure
of your mind
we are in good company
just two of a kind
alike, alike, this camaraderie
we share
has brought us closer than
anything else-mind over matter
words as knowledge-
so there-spread the word
up to you-draw
your own conclusions

by Michael Perry

WAITING FOR MY BREAK

you in the morning, sleepy still
there in your eyes, i give you a moment
prepare your coffee, black with lots of cream
we don't speak, just sit, the moment
is a moment, already passing us by
so just not yet, i wait, i can always tell
even after all these years, you were
never an early riser i was, the one
who was up before dawn, writing my
greatest hits, waiting for that big break
still, the years have come and gone
it was never meant to be so it turned into
something i did for fun, as i sit at my
writing desk-throwing out ideas, she says
to me, you always make the best cup of coffee

By Michael Perry

TAKE IT ON THE WING
gulls fly, dart
dive full circle
stealth,rise, fall
in frantic pursuit
searched for-prize
the pearlescent flesh
of coveted shell fish
that lays abandoned
on the empty shore
within useful persistence
a razored beak finds
one,spills out the flesh
ready to take it away
leaving the rest to caw
mocking-restlessly be
their insult, to miss out
frustrated flocks fly on

By Michael Perry

PICTURE PERFECT

first thing, this time of morning
as it appears in difference to the
soft glow ready coming through, a
morning's sun rise appearing to  
show off sheen from the grass, a
temporary impression, projected
to look like mirrored glass set  
to beam back, sometimes blinding
if cast the right way, a singular image
of picture perfect so  shiny and bright
something new,  unused never touched

by Michael Perry

WHAT I TELL MYSELF

what it must be like- for just one night
to be loved, liked- to just be-the good-bad,
in side of me- comes out- (I am waiting) as thoughts swirl
- around the bed room-if I go to sleep now
say my prayers- always;  minds in overload-- (if I could) to side step
the obvious- (how can I) concentrate-settle-down
make it one thing-at a time, two, three
four, shut the door-sure thing- (do I)- feel better?
now, have one eye-open, long as it takes- for
the duration of the night- I wait (have my doubts)
every-thing in the dark-
stays exaggerated; or better explained
in the morning- (hope so)- at least I think (what I tell myself)

by Michael Perry

KISS A FEW FROGS

she followed him, falling head-long
felt it was love, knew this was maddening
unable to think, he was so hard to resist
she of him, fell hard, taken, captivated
by his boyish smile, that rakish charm
all rolled into one, he was every bad boy
her mom and dad had warned about
under any circumstances -do not fall for
yet here she was, with decision time
what happens next? will determine if
she remains her mom and dad's little princess
or the capable young woman aware that
you have to kiss a few frogs, in order to find
her once in a life time true prince charming

by Michael Perry

OLD MAN  -about father's and son's

I called you on the phone- you answered slow
each time, as you spoke, gathering your thoughts, parsing
every word- at first-not recognizing me, then a spark of the familiar

you said, my name as we made small talk this day and every day
our common thread to kindle, of the days events; such generalized
things; the weather, your health- the house needing repairs, all
the by and by, still and all, until then when

the conversation would eventually peter out, we agreed to
speak again soon, we never touched upon, to say "I love you"
each time remaining, complacent, aloof, and during this silence
all I could think of was what I needed to do-once I hung up with him-

and  now your gone-of this I realized much too late
-of the common, the mundane, the thread that bound us
one to the other, as father and son

am I like you?- I wondered year after year- as I saw your
reflection staring back at me, in the mirror- and now, thinking
I wish I had turned the conversation back to us- to make it about us
to say I love you, and really mean it- for I never told you, you
were my original superhero- the person I most wanted to be, then
over time-as we took each other for granted, your presence diminished but your memory lives on

I am the Father now- and a Grandfather too, and with every conversation I have with my sons I tell them I love them and they to me-I don't want them to think that  saying "I love you" is un-manly- something you don't say out -loud, my  sons are of a different generation as I was to my Father  and this is a
good thing for all of us, knowing unconditionally that we as men can give love and receive love to each other and not be afraid to speak it out loud or to show it and accept this as our gift to each other; as father and son(s).

By Michael Perry

SUMMERTIME

as the moth against the screen door
flits at the light willing or not to repeat
in it's attempted blind stare that which
fuels the source of it's stress all at once
in singular to strive; to live, it beats it's
wing to the ragged hum of a busted air
conditioner pushing out even more heat
- over and over - a thousand times-more
with a vain struggle to gain a simple footing
a failed persistence, it staggers to survive
for that which stands in it's way-namely; the
unrelenting endless summertime, it bears down
in a grip, to take hold- we are reminded of this-
going forward, we must think ahead; regard our
position - to seek it all, or die trying- over and
over in our own vain attempt to succeed or fail, we
then, like as not; will in the end- become like the moth

By Michael Perry

LIFE CYCLE: A SERIES OF OBSERVATIONS

I.
like a river majestic, not settling, unnerved, tracking the tranquil
it goes without saying-tantamount- a truly living thing, as it
flows gathering speed, -of gaining prescient, a mind of its own
all the  momentum; that is time and chance-   waiting to seethe
in grief or the relief to be set free, running hot or cold to the touch  
with ego unparalleled, misused forethought, giver or taker of life  

II.
simply from this ones; aged hand clasped, we watch to see as
the lay of the land-a road map of veins, is rubbed sore, clearly
they trace- while even stiffer fingers try to fumble with a rosary
laced, between a thumb and forefinger gingerly placed, and the  
silent lips mumble words of prayer, a devotion that speaks
louder than any saint or sinner cares to profess ones own beliefs

III.
Through out a summer's  body of work ; a live concert
a showcase of songs played out in the key of life , if you
listen close whether night or morning, surely a symphony
of  delight, there to serenade, ease away all the stress of
life; close your eyes; focus-as you listen in -the woodwinds play
then strings, with full instrumental pay attention to the harmony- a
temptation of sight and sound, all of nature on full display, ready
to engage an audience of one or the toughest of audiences found

IV.
like a moth to a flame with eyes open, or shut tight
with averted, or eyes wide, always missing the signs
never ready to avoid all the lost opportunities of escape
flit or fight; hit or miss, of it's own making; just the chance
to survive another day; as if- yet with a trick of light
that blinds, ready to be claimed- still another victim falls
not ready, fully unprepared - for a fate worse than death

V.
to reach,  there,  stand at the top of the mountain
you must (will) take the climb-up, all the way, just to be
closer to God, to feel the presence, in touch with Grace
so when one speaks of the unexplained- all will
be made plain, and ones full faith shall be restored

VI.
In my infant grandson's eyes, I watch him, figuring out life
all the shapes and colors, he is confronted with, all at once
yet he comes through- made of pure delight, with little fingers
and toes- full potential; of energy housed in a body of truth
making me  truly humbled, to be blessed, as all time stands still
I am lost in this moment of sheer innocence; of his (my) life defined  

by Michael Perry

HALLOWED GROUND

with only the stillness
to guide me, through the encrusted paths
that were crisscrossed by the years
and the few who made this trek before
they all came, as I have now, to
seek the solace of the lumbering pine
and the secrets they held within

as the early sun cut through
it would lead me further on to find
a cathedral within the woods, once I came upon
it, there were no words to explain, how I felt, it took
my breathe away, I was overcome with emotion as if
being taken over, I could only imagine, what others
might have felt  as they too would have reflected on
what they had seen, if only to accept the majesty of
age and repose, for in -these years it took to create
what laid before, and for those seeking to find, this
was a place of hallowed ground

by Michael Perry

UPON THIS SPOT

canopy of leaves
unto this tree
undaunted, while remaining
year upon year, ready
to shed secrets,  of all that it knows
of those gathered, once here
upon this spot before and now

By Michael Perry

ONCE AND FOR ALL
counting the days; the long and slow of it
much has come between us, as we
lead other lives-now; to this point, I resigned
to letting you go; until our chance meeting-  again
now under these changed circumstances, do we
rekindle, what was left; would it still be the same
or has time tempered our view-from a once growing flame
to where we are now; as we share a moment, ready
to gaze into each others eyes for the first time or last
would it  tell us everything, we will need to know; as we
start over, with an initial embrace, will we still be lovers
or just replaying- love's foolish game, somehow; wanting
to be coaxed again- or will one touch be enough, as our bodies
find the confidence, once more, with hands over  our hearts
as we confess true love- between us, once and for all

by Michael Perry

ODE TO A WOMAN AS A GLASS FIGURINE

you were made so very fragile
perfection down to the detail in every way
the reason why, you were made collectible
to pique my interest- add you to my
collection; one of a kind's, to admire you
from an arms length-  until one day, I
felt the need to bring you down for
a better look-I should have known better
that's when it happened; I became distracted
momentarily; but it was enough, for you
to slip through my fingers and crash onto
the kitchen floor, shattering into a million little
pieces, jagged, made un-recognizable; and
there I was - on my knees, about ready to cry-the
realization setting in, you were gone , I- unable to
make you better, to put you back- to make you whole

by Michael Perry

RED DRESS

clinging to her curves, showing just enough, she is, as I
watched her; from head to toe, turning my way, I am
left speechless, having no words come, tongue tied
mouth dry, here with, no way to flatter, to implore
my missed opportunity, I have no one else to blame
what a shame, in that one minute, a lost circumstance
she simply stopped my heart, with one last look, now
she walks by, in that red dress, all to linger, to burn a
tattoo, on my brain, never to forget, forever on my mind
no longer attainable, she simply will be, that beautiful woman
in a red dress, who passed me by; with one chance to impress

by Michael Perry

SAINT OR SINNER
you,                         are you a
saint or sinner- be it a curse, or worse, still
the path you choose- of where you can't
look ahead-or go back, up to
you- to fight for the undecided, partisan
one in every crowd, you will find- as
destiny pays you a call;  to empower
something within to embrace it
make a big deal -give a ****
so what - if you, take the  hit, it
only hurts in the interim, to come
as a blow to your ego,  but you will
get through if, for what you think
matters most- is how you handle it
throughout, like in the early stages
be prepared for the blow-back-or
how to get away with it; to walk away
from the alleged
                                perfect crime-that which
has no witnesses-or victims blood on your hands
your word against theirs- as you smile
your winning smile, everything is
good, but remember; truth has weight
it will bear down eventually
on your soul, but your fine
for now; just keep smiling, make them believe
it wasn't you, and they will- because it's about
the intrigue, the human nature; of it all
we being; curious creatures of habit, we want to know
how it all went down; as  we peek out through
the window blind, so  cross your heart
and hope you                                               played your part
                      just right- if not,     know,    history has a long memory

by Michael Perry

THE EMBRACE

where the endless is endless
as if willing itself to spill-one
into the other- over the edge, where
sky touches a setting sun, to a point
as the wind wills itself to be quiet
settling into a whisper, I lean in
trying to hear, while overcome
outnumbered I am alone, amongst
the countless number of stars, they embrace
wink, feeling like lost friends, there to steady
to calm me, as I look down into the water
made of glass-I am looking at me, looking at me
trying to decipher-what it all means; nothing comes
what happens-is it the end; gone as far as I can go
left to walk on water- to figure it out on my own
I hate puzzles, I just  need a simple answer to
the question I have, and then before I can ask it
appears a white dove, flying above my head
as I watch it- it flies without stopping into
the light, to a place where the sun is rising,  expecting me
to follow, so I go -no longer afraid, I know now what
I have to do- my question is answered, I am saved

By Michael Perry

ME

as the sun sets
it brings on another night-
where one half the world is a sleep
still a third, have one eye open
then there are a few
who just wonder why, mostly aloud
to themselves, no one else around
then there' s me
hoping and praying, both my eyes pried wide
unable to close them, to the hours they trickle down
then as I watch the sun ready to rise
up behind some cloud cover, to bring on
a brand new day-I will do my part, tired
unprepared, to welcome it -with weightless, open arms  

by Michael Perry

SUNDAY MORNING
some how trying to recall / a few minutes more/as the rains begin to fall outside
holding back time/ trying to ignore/ another day unfolds/ outside our door
with her body / resting against mine every space filled/ with our loving in mind
to good to be true/ a clock begins to chime/ somewhere near by/ hit it one time
more than a memory now/ as sunday morning still lives through/ rose colored glass
now coming into view/ feeling crazy build/ needing to unwind/ even if /only in my mind
making monday morning/ a little easier I find/ as it comes back round/ comes back round
with yesterdays memory/ now fading fast/ if only/ as our bodies lay here/ nice and warm
letting sunday morning linger still/ with just a little hint / another touch/ of skin on skin
here comes monday/ pillows pushed in to a pile, her lips/ close to mine/ another moment more
listening to her soft breathing/ knowing I can't resist/ or even turn back the hands of time
more than a memory/ sunday morning still lives through rose colored glass/ now comes a view
feeling crazy build/ needing to unwind/ even if /only in my mind/making monday morning
a little easier I find/ as monday morning comes back round/ as monday comes back round

By Michael Perry

RUMOURS

for every little reason, we wanted
something more to build a fire, stoke a flame
wanting to feel it to the core, deeply, until

we made mistakes along the way, with
having no ready excuse or way to explain

when love doesn't play fair, we struggled
in hopes to reclaim along the way, while our backs
were turned; with  lips telling lies , the  rumours flew

ever ready for a sacrifice, a love turned to chill
so what to do when once, love tasted so sweet

it demanded all our time, we held bay, ignoring
the signs, taking our cue from the heart, willing to a fault, we
two acted- dazed and confused; here, we laid awake

for the fear, when would the other shoe drop, we held our
breath, undercover in the dark for love to succeed or fail

we were lost between the echoes, growing  there loud
in our ears; as the shadows of loves ghost, came out to play
and in the morning,  with the light of day dawning would all be

forgiven? with the realization, swirling about;  the rumours false or
real, would leave it's lasting impression; with the scars hard to heal

by Michael Perry

WATER
water is healing
flowing through the vein
of bodies tributary;   water is power
night and day, hour by hour
ready to create life, take it away; water is personified
sacred, purified, to sanctify, carried on for
generation after generation, constantly moving, unfazed, by everything else it surrounds

by Michael Perry

MISS CAPE COD

I dreamed of you
anticipation grows
to come back, I know it's been awhile
to come home-with fleeting memory
I recalled-every detail; beach sand, dunes, salt
prodigious grases, still you kept me waiting
let my heart die, turned your back-became
bitter like a lover spurned; denied me-kept your distance
made me a refugee-cast me off- In time though
all has changed, we grow older, bad memories fade
we cling to debris as a life line, you threw to me, I took it
with one last chance to claim my native son status. to breathe in
the salt air-I missed it, to taste on my tongue-again
still remember though, we are complicit
all is forgiven-for now, you and I -together, reconciled

by Michael Perry

UNTITLED

                A light we
once possessed
this want- had a name
a common thread, all at once
beginning, to unravel, still
I had in my mind
to hold on to, you, to linger there- deep in
side my veins, made me insane
you came like a drug-to flow
under my skin each time, in
need of a fix, to retain my sanity
             our perfect storm, with conditions right
you were what I  needed, to make me dependant
                     now all for nothing,you turned, cold
my withdrawl complete like bugs under my skin- to
crawl there, I was left cold and
shaking, for days on end-  you left me behind, as I
tried to focus, somehow retain- get a grip
                                                   on loves new reality

by Michael Perry