I can almost touch it.
It feels so close.
The tune conjures it.
The smell of green and new.
Memories of what was.
Close to me.
Never lost, never old, never told.
Then, I catch the glance.
I see the real.
Content myself with what is.
Let go what was.
So quickly lost.
Yet seems so close.
Is closed to me.

It sets forth the beginning.
It sets forth the reason.
It sets forth the place.
It sets forth the children.
It sets forth the intent.
It sets forth the remedy.
It sets forth the end.
My humble complaint.

My turtle heart was covered.
Sat in the middle of the path,
Of all I believed,
Of all I had done.
Justice would never fail.
People do what's right.
How many times
my turtle heart sang the
song in heavy traffic.
For thirty years, I crossed
that road.
On the day it counted most.
Traffic hit my turtle shell.
Cracked my heart and soul.

Night time quiet.
Fire sizzles and
throws sparks in the dark.
Leading eyes to follow the full moon,
resting low on trees.
Big and orange smiling
upon the earth.
Harvest moon glowing
autumn.
As the fire devours its nest,
Crackling with hungry delight.

Crazy in my mind
Trapped in a life I did not choose
Crazy in my mind
No release
Duty is mine
No place of solace
Don't share your guilt with me
Crazy in my mind
Let me be
Just a little peace

Crisp leaves scrap the pavement
Just outside my window;
The freedom of travel at will
of God;
Me, hostage inside at work;
The dead leaves move;
The living me sits.
No equity in that.
Leaves dancing
And rattling with their own beat.
Me silent, listening.

The elevator is full.
Everyone is looking up
As if it will move faster
By straining necks.
Eyes only meeting as doors open.
Courtesy reigns.
Strangers remain strangers.
Holding doors and pushing buttons
On command.
Politeness in a busy day.
The elevator is a lesson.
Ordered compromise of strangers
Each trying to go his or her own way
Trapped together for the ride.
Maybe I'll take the steps.

Seeing the light in the crack;
The expectation rising with hushed murmur;
The lights lower;
The voices quiet;
The only sound is the curtain swinging open;
The light is on the stage;
People rest in shadows;
They await the story;
It is silence before the entrance;
A stage door opens and reveals the hero;
The hero walks to the end of the stage;
The hero stares into the shadows;
He delivers.
Only then people know who he is.

Old enough to drink.
She seemed naive.
Slow danced to old music.
Her long blonde hair.
Her skirt too short.
Her lips too full.
Out in cool night air
Curiosity leaned him toward her.
Lips met.
Stunned.
Did she know
She had an edge, daddy's little girl stung like a bee.
He pushed her back and walked away.
Too much trouble for too little play
She laughed out loud as he walked away.

I still hear the music
My feet want to swing in step.
My eyes want to smile with welcome.
I want to cling.
I still hear the music.
My arms want to wrap with warmth.
My lips want to whisper.
The rhythm is familiar.
I still hear the music.
Come to me.
Let's dance, the dance of youth.

Not sure what you expected.
Promises made, never lived.
Tell me who I was to you.
Was I just a mirror?
A reflection of your fascination
with your own thought of self.
The glory of you.
Salt air has tarnished my metal.
Your reflection no longer shows.

Night sky with deep dark blues;
Clouds traveling across the moon;
Cool breeze shaking the changing leaves;
The moon's fullness still showing the path;
The water gently lapping in the sound;
The sand's cool grasp as we walk to the edge;
Salty funk rising in the air;
Not wanting change, but knowing one is near;
Time is leaving.

Just a tad off
Not the new
A little too knowing
Not shiny
Just a little funk
Outdone
Out shown
Capable but aware
Off putting with stare
Reliable but expected

With all the celebration
of Eve and Day;
The festive expectation;
The next day is forgotten;
The feeling of all done;
The giant wave of over;
Wait for another Eve and Day
yet to come.
The guess of how many more.
Somehow the bust of over
is never truly calculated
in the fun of Eve and Day.
All  the thought and expense.
Yet the gift is always there.

Yesterday, I was buying a house on the beach.
Today, heading to Vegas.
Tomorrow, I may go to London.
It's a get away.
Once a day,
For me alone,
Perfect gardens.
Full moons at noon.
Loves lost found.
Waves of past and present never lived.
Daydream, wide awake with purpose.
Full imagination of desires.
Next week, maybe Mars.

Sink to the bottom;
Blues, green
Away from the shallow;
No more hallow;
Feeling the full weight
Of the deepest part.
Life of a mermaid
My tail beating against
The bottom forcing sand
To cover the depth.
Let me rest in deep.
No answers to be had.
Just rest for my weary self.

Felt so pure, only you and I.
Fun together in all we did.
Memories are as fresh as the day lived;
Songs bring back with renewed luster
all sensations felt;
My thoughts often go back to our times.
Deep love, deep anger
Left unforgiven and unforgotten.

He says his piece
I say mine
Both flow freely
Hours of hurt
Guided by lawyers
Directed with purpose
With clever questions
and pointed thought
To conclude this matter
So much money for
so little.

Didn't you know it is all about me?
You thought it was about us-
You thought it was you and me-
Not so much.
The story was short.
You thought it was done-
Your part was over-
For me, it had just begun.

Drop in his arms
Feeling the security of love
Gaze in his eyes
Feel the music of trust
Hearts beat the rhythm
Close with no other
Hair nearly sweeping the floor
Swoop, I am up again
Swirled away and back
To his safe embrace
Lips tickle my neck
His hand runs the length of me
My forever
To hold the moment of perfection
Who knows how long it will last--
for this moment forever.

Rhyme in mind;
Seen a time gone by;
***** ole line spins by;
Not cruel, just rumpled.
Not spicy, just worn.
Once bounced with new,
now falls with truth.
Lost about the edges.

I crawl inside your life,
Take it as my own.
Tailor it to my needs.
Walk back in forth before the mirror.
Move into public.
Let the people see
Then, once home, I carefully remove
Place it on the hanger
No longer heavy on my shoulders.
Your burden awaits you.
The closet closed.
Your garment, my disguise.

Not just a word,
Not just a feeling,
Vomiting words
Meaning more.
So much pain,
no hiding from a future
that seems so much
like a past --
Living worst fears repeated.

Icy breath escapes his mouth;
No warmth found;
Only cold, dense words,
That make the heart hurt;
The chilled wind cuts not as bad.
Hope it hurts him to say
those things.
Even if it is just the cold wind,
chilling his lungs and beating heart
as he opens his mouth.
Don't be that way.
But so it is,
A chill, for a chill.

Wondered off;
Left this path;
Moved to the next thought;
All just a notion;
Never really part.
Left to hymns and angel wings.
Don't forget me.
I am still here.
Eternity ahead.
See you soon.

Good to give
Immediate relief
Possible regret
Honesty told from the heart
Release of feeling
Brush of romance
Seal of words and jars
Tell by tremble
Stiff feelings unknown
Mother's blessing and nightmare
Protest good and bad
Start and finish
Receptor of hedonism.
Kiss
Sealed in death

We move through with a certain amount of pain.
We walk the plain of meaning.
Double edged words.
Sharing too much.
Too much imagination
Letting others see deep
Share a life never lived except in our head
Reality is ours.
Do we pinch love ones with recollections
Or keep them quiet inside?
Stay quiet.
Truth may pinch.
Don't pinch,
Otherwise remain unknown.

Its not about me.
Bits and pieces maybe.
My imagination.
My daydream.
My life.
My sister's life.
Don't try to read my mind.
It flies to distant lands.
Too many stories heard.
Too many stories lived.
Too many stories dreamt.
Don't try to read my mind.
It is just a ***** lie.

Son, don't you see what matters
Don't give in
Follow your own
Don't give in to others
Love your own

Don't you think he would know better;
Disappears for a while;
Hums with afterburn
Upon return;
Her, older and married;
Him, youthful and dense;
Yet she continues to bait;
He continues to travel;
As it all unravels.
Cursed with longing
That's just deception.
Unreal in the real.
Only good in the steal.

Tip it over on the pillow;
Let it drain from deep within;
Sands of consciousness drain forth
in confusing stories of the night.
Trying to make sense of the depth of life,
Looking for forgiveness,
Attempting to right the wrongs,
Figuring the problems that can't be solved.
Flying over distant lands.
Talking happily with long lost friends.
Night is a time to drift and seek.
To meet the fears and conquer.
If only that dream can be found.

Rising and falling
with the gentle bounce
of the wake
from the passing boat.
In the water waiting
for the day to be spent.
Gold warm resting
on my pink cheeks.
Leaning on the float
watching perfect leave
with quiet, brutal
splintering of possibilities.
Nothing gained.
So much lost.
But, it was good.

Running down the edge;
Toward the bottom;
The last bit of the storm.
No more thunder.
No more lightning.
Just the reminder.
The last drip.
Glistening in the sun.
Power surrendered;
Glistening in the heat of day.

Head forward
with stretched neck;
Was I that wicked?
Was I that lost?
Just swept up in youth;
Now under deep blue;
Was I my own undoing?
Is this payback?
Gulping blue
In deep swallows.
Lost from myself.

Made up of the dust
Of life's journey.
Picking up the bits
Swirling about me.
Soaking into me
The strength made
From events beyond
My control.
Sparkled with the joy
Of the unexpected happiness
Of life's great blessings.
At the end washed from me
So that I am cleansed
And rinsed onto my love ones
As a memory of what was.

In my own space,
With my own thoughts,
Roaming all the territories
Of what I want.
Just a moment to spare
about the thought that as
we age sometimes our minds
no longer are.
God seems to grant a contract
for the mind that expires
Before life.
So I will sit and enjoy
while I still have value.

The desk sat on the edge of the woods;
The pretty wood on top was weathered;
The shine had left the wood;
The wood wanted to splinter under my hand.
The drawers were shut and locked
At the back of the desk,
The burnt  orange color browning with time.
The corners pushed out as once it had
In the office with drawers.
The piece that rolled out for signatures
Hung loosely at the front.
Mourning all undone
On the heavy top of the old desk.
Perhaps to repair and start again.
Led to the edge of the forest by ghosts;
The spirits pulling at me to this old spot.
To let me see what lay waste.
Pained by the failure.
The missed opportunity of what could have been.
The work undone.
The skill let gone.
The thought set free to rain and sun.

The days are long.
The nights plain.
Unwilling to explore.
Restrained by grief.
Nothing to hold near
Except the thoughts of past.
Past remains deep inside.
Never again to be whole.
Left to be just me.

Last of  daylight crisping across the sound;
Cooling of the powder sand;
Gentle little breeze across sunburnt cheeks;
The birds making one last dive;
White cotton shirts and flip-flops;
Closing of the pool and packing of the chairs;
Vacation gone as full moon rises.
Churning thoughts of things undone
Hit the mind with tomorrow's plan.

Enough today
No more.
No more dancing.
No more love.
Just a bit of rest.
Selfish nothing.
Give no more.
No more gentle touching.
No more words.
No more thoughts of youth.
Enough today, I'm old.

Forward move.
Tripping sometimes
With doubt.
Reaching toward
Grasping at air.
Standing, stillness.
Spilling thoughts
And prayers.
Head down to hear.
Forward time.
Ergo, I go.

My mother rises on the pedestal
From the deep blue of the pool
With lipstick and perfect hair.
She is Esther Williams.
I flounder in life.
Looking for perfect.
Being just normal.
I am Rhoda - some style
Some wit, but no Esther.
Esther never understood
Rhoda's laugh at her flaws
Her sense of humor at her expense.
Esther wanted beauty and love.
Rhoda wanted beauty and love,
but knew it was a dream just like
rising from the pool with perfect hair.
You have to make believe those things.

Never see the other side;
The other side is not midnight;
Even if it is
Midnight has much to offer;
The cool dark of thought;
The blinking stars of enlightenment;
Peel back your prejudice;
Please take back your hate;
Nothing is all about you;
Other parties are involved;
Collateral damage, you love;
Why is it always the challenge
to see who can be the bigger ***?
Where once there was love and lust
Now there is mistrust and hatred.
Strong emotion replaced by strong pain.
Step around yourself.

Not feeling my age.
Outside air is crisp with challenge.
Crows feet are forgotten.
Listening to the sounds of night.
In the dim can still pass.
Sipping the rich purple
in my glass by the fire.
My ankle is still slim in my boot.
My sweater is wrapped around.
The firelight glows.
No place for my feeling to go.
Just sitting enjoying the spell.
Remembering what should have been.
Wishing not so much waste.
Head leaned forward.
Fall is beautiful - if not lonely now.

Sunshine in the fall.
Happy fall orange and bright,
Leaves tumbling over playing kids.
Soft golds lighten the moods
With hope of gathering families.
Expectant mothers awaiting arrivals
in the spring with protective thoughts
of what will be.
Cool nights with warm cuddles.
Fall's happy gate of family time.

If a clown comes at me
I will have  to run him down
Deep dark night
Where am I
Supposed to be a party
If he comes at me
I will run him down
Head back to Blacksburg
**** that clown

So, Son, I wish it
hadn't happened.
We could always say
why would it happen
to such a good kid like you.
Circumstances surround you
in a way they never have another.
Collapsing on your broad shoulders.
Possibilities crumble like dust.
And what about him.
It is worse for him and his.
With the pain I feel for your mistakes,
Their misery to me is unbearable.
Why does free will conquer good will?
There you stand to face the moment.
My heart aches.
But you are straight and fearless.
You will take your consequence.
I must take mine.

So it soars towards the moon and stars;
It lights the sky with bright showers.
One beautiful blast of color after another;
each catching the gaze.
A sorrowful glance, if not full glory;
The ones that strike the further distance
get the "ahhhs".
The ones that burst with different colors
win the crowds.
Aren't we all just firecrackers travelling
our life - making our mark.
But in the end, we are all the same,
just a trail of smoke and cinder.

It was better than moonlight.
It was better than birds singing in morning.
It was the sweetness of youth.
It was to be a wonderful memory.
But is was truly nothing.
It was soon forgotten.
It was never forgiven.
It was just a mistake.