Bit far out far away
Not noticed -
Cry baby, cry to the notes of my song.
It is so pleasing
It is so wrong.
I breathe in your sober tone
I feel you drown.
Frightened of all that is new
Why can’t you take what it is that you’re due?
Didn’t mean to burn you.
Didn’t want to turn you.
Come dance grotesquely,
Come dance with delight.
?Kiss the lids of my eyes
Let me heal with my light.

I knew a man who wasn’t whole
A kind but troubled, gentle soul.

Words to comfort him were spoken
Yet to him they were a token
Can’t you see that I am broken?

I understand - am here to listen.
What is it that you are missing?
My head’s been heavy for a while.
It often takes a lot to smile.
But I don’t moan; It’s not my style.

With that, the man went on his way
To cope alone another day.

.
On a sweet apple crisp cold day we walk
When the air is acrid with distant wood smoke
And bright Leaves fall with determination 
Creating the season’s rich tapestry.

I run to keep up
Your science makes me grateful 
For the rest 
I notice still
My loose-mitted hand tentatively held out 
To all manner of wonders that
My own hasty glances would have missed.

The stream, now  
A sweet musty rug of russet rot,
Rambling with red and black fodder
For urgent little colonies of foragers
Who wait for wonders of the earth to be passed 

There are days like this
Stopped
To sip sweet tea from your flask
The ecstasy of the smallest thing
Remembered.

Carefully she sets the miniature stage
With mirror and moss.
Elegant almond tips
Place tiny acorn chairs,
Bloodroot and blue violet;
Even a lady’s slipper at the base
Of a matchbox bed.

Kneeling patiently
Her kind eyes smile sadly,
Watch me awkwardly take
The scene away with imagination,
My ardent offering, clumsy
Of dandelions and ***** willows
Little stones and twiggy gates.

For the faerie child too
Will help mother build a garden
I don’t want to go to the lake
I don’t want to go-
I don’t want to miss them.
For faerie-garden making
Is a lifetime spent in minutes

Looking down
A spent ******
On the ground,
*******.
Giving appropriate gut
Reaction of disgust;
Lewd
Youths can’t control their lust.
As you consider the preface to
Your dawn discovery
(Made on your everyday
Medial life constitutional).
You remember
Two lovers who
Were careless -
Because young love always is.

I am not his
He does not own me
This isn’t just a phase
But I am his
For he has shown me
A path to clearer days

Forgive me
I needed too much
I needed to soon
I wanted the sun and the stars
And the moon.