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Tom Turner Sep 2020
I am dancing naked in the rain.
There is no better way to dance.
And nowhere else to dance.
But the rain.

I do not dodge the drops.
I do not try as I once did.
There is nothing else to do but dance.
And in the rain.

I did not really dance before,
although I really thought I did.
Before I learned nothing is stronger
than the rain.

And I wore clothes, back then
when I really thought I danced.
Before I learned of the need for nothing
in the rain.

I am dancing naked in the rain
It’s doing its work, beating me down
Until there is no one remaining.
Just the rain.
Tom Turner Sep 2020
My doctor says I drink too much.
Coffee, that is.
What does he know about true love and such?

So I cut back, from six to five.
Pots, that is.
It's hard, but I am still alive.

But what I really fear
is what he makes me do next year.
Tom Turner Sep 2020
I have been in the arena
and heard the crowds roar
and been in solitude
and heard the silence more.

I have been the hero
and heard the ovations
and been the loser
and heard castigations

I’ve been famous
and heard adulation
and been forgotten
and heard denigration

I’ve been in love
and heard birds sing
and been out of love
and heard nothing.

I prefer the arena.
And hero.
And famous.
And especially love.
Tom Turner Sep 2020
There is a struggle
deep in my gut –
between the lie that
I don’t miss you
and reality

A battle between
believing that
I don’t really need you
and the fact
that I really do.

A war between
I will forget you
and the fear
I never will.
Tom Turner Sep 2020
When hope seems gone
And days seem dark
I drop to one knee
And think of 23.

Fifteen and me,
the untreatables,
agreed
to experimental surgery.

Sometimes I question why  
I was the one to survive
But mostly I thank God
I am one alive.
Revised 091520
Tom Turner Sep 2020
After she left
I thought a lot
about why she was gone.
I racked my brain
for all the things
I didn’t say
and didn’t do.
Until I finally understood -

Sometimes,
good things just die
A tree grows old.
Your dog grows old.
And sometimes,
even love grows old.
Tom Turner Sep 2020
The shell of the gun
left the shell of a man.
Twice.
The one shot and killed and
the one who shot and killed.
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