I don't need
friendship
endless drama
love or laughter
I listen to the
spontaneity
of the wind
I study the
poetry of
dead trees
I begin to
understand
the adventure
of wild birds ...
Clay.M

red stains on the cup,
her lips' ghost,
a scarlet trace,
porcelain whispers,
no words,
no soft goodbyes left—
just silence to fill the
v
    o
  i
d.

I wish i could explain myself
Fully explain myself...
Stop delivering pain to myself
Be deliberate, and save myself
Instead of filling out the page by myself
Speak in full sentence to you by myself
I'm tired of being lame by myself
Not interested in fame by myself
So the emotions on the page are for myself
I wish i could give them to you myself
Explain why i need all of you to myself
I sorta need saving from myself
And you know what else...
I'm getting used to it being me and myself.

Mammy died years ago,
So I'm older than her now,
Though I never feel this way.
But I'm younger than my father was
Years after his delay.

I'm an aging Granda now,
But I seldom feel this way;
When in my memories,
Where they truly lie,
I'm still their son today.

The upper branches
Of the Family Tree
Are visible.
I'm not near the base
Where I used to be.

There are fewer branches above;
And as I move there's
More and less to love.

Some limbs above have broken,
Suffered drought and heat
Through the elements of life.
But the trunk is true, strong,
Stalwart and flexible
As the lineage of its rings,
These expanding circles of life.
And above,
The transplanted branches
Were rooted with love.
Sprouts apppear below,
As further up I go.
And my limbs
Are moving slow.