Grasping for air I only
Want to go back in time
My arms numb and heavy
But I keep them moving, I keep reaching into the cold
To make my wrongs right.
Shutting my eyes
I find myself 28 years in the past
In college at the lakeside dining hall
Drinking coffee.
The cup is hot in my hands,
And I burn my throat
gulping too fast.
Shutting my eyes again
I feel the warmth of the sun.

Your one O'clock
Charade and temper fought
Parade masked by the
Cicada chorus and outside
Scuffling feet.
I break down.
I break because
You are strong - a Roman arch
building my memory.

If this is a dream
I'll safely resign heavens promise and walk blind
Through the open door where a raven scatters
The noiseless song birds.
Their feathers fall in place where
A corner table cools under the porch.

Summer was our friend so
I have to close the door -
I am tired of trying to impress your shade.

The earth is yearning for mans forlorn redemption.
Calling tides and solemn mountain sides
Roar for peace, a natural grave prevention
Controlled by God while on top his hill resides.

Doctor, you explain this truth with ease.
Yet, I enjoy the churning storms tonight
The thunder clap and deadly current lightning strike
I dream of peace asleep afloat torn seas.

If man call for forgiveness and sin decline
What of nature's keep? She helps me sleep.
I abhor you gentle shore, taunt you sky benign
Of storm - let me drag my feet along the street

Below sky lined peaks of idolized tower
We forgot history and dreamed of machinery better
We forgot our neighbor and passed by the beggar
In once proud buildings boarded up they cower.

Will we cower at the thunders crash of nature's power
Will we cower and run from land to set sail for sea
Closing eyes in the unknown hour
Like Jonah and his shriveled tree.

My old summer face
At sunset
Remembering fireflies
And fading sounds,
Melted days like home made
Ice Cream and rock salt.

You can stand awhile
Holding your own
Coffee cup
Sipping, smiling, musing.

Walk with me.
Be my guide
My dog star.

Into the argument I run shielding
My eyes from the sun.
I know my words are fallen paint flakes
And rust - sharp on the tongue
Like an old barn find a 58
Yeoman Wagon
Faded grey
Seats torn.
Still fit for a silent family trip
But sitting stubborn
Stuck and worn

Your lines are written well
Calming and beautiful
Like an observing winter moon
Reflecting through mountain
Cedar. You stir placid water.

                                           I

Believe your passion,
Trust in your lines
For they are worked with time,
Perfect peace like a cold wind -
Natures breath from an old
Experienced mountain fall that
Stirs young birch from sleep.

                                           I

Breath deeper knowing you
are close and absorbing,
Seasoned by the shrill tone of battle.
Every southern city believes
Sherman spared her due to
Love of women.

                                           I

Stand tall, defeated the perfect
Fall. The stinging water flows
Below me pure and swift
Smoothing dreadful stone.
Your passion flows through my hair.

Should I jump up as high
as I can with youthful might,
Impressing mom with a new
Found power possessed in my
Shoes.

I can fall back at any time
Laughing child delight
At the capacity of the simplest ideas.
Regressing only to fall forward.