I carry a little book
to write down some lines
from time to time

Tonight I started to
write a few about you
and they just kept
pouring out and
sentences kept running on
and words kept getting
all jumbled together and
thoughts were all rambling
and pretty soon
tears were falling and
nothing made sense.
Kind of like you leaving.

Sitting, looking out the window,
only me and darkness
waiting on the Christmas sun.

Wondering what is next to do –
sun doesn’t fix the solitude.
Maybe I will just go out and run.

Run forever, until I find
the mystery edge of earth,
keep running ‘til I’m done.

There are some bruises
collected along the way
that I just never
talk about.

Words, said and unsaid.
Backs turned away.
Eyes, staring fierce
or just turned down

People sometime leave a mark –
probably never knowing
they put a dent in some
unsuspecting heart.

I would guess
I’ve left some too.

Sometimes, I just find a busy street
and walk around and smile at people.

Most of them
Look away
Look down
Look surprised
Look angry
Look back with that
“who the hell are you” look.

But once in a while
someone surprises me
and smiles back.

People with no morals
consider themselves to be
better than the rest of us.

They are not constrained
by laws of God or man,
by honor or integrity

So they are truly free
to create havoc in the world,
without fear of consequences

They make good politicians.

If I could do it all again,
Live my life from start to end,
doing everything the same
is what I’d do -
except the part of losing you.

Love is like a sail boat.
Hope is the wind and
dreams are the sails,
carrying you through
life’s rough seas,
always to home

My sails are
torn and tattered.
My hull is leaking
lying battered,
on the rocks of
Isle Alone.