I am caged.
The edge of my bed
Holds me hostage,
The walls of my room
Glare if I dare to peer
Through the doorway.
The road limits the places
I may go, and the
City limit markers refuse
To let me pass.
The farewell signs of this
Place do not allow me
To wave goodbye or
Bid farewell;
Their grip only tightens
As I try to escape.
The rivers and lakes
Reject my respectful nods;
They will not permit
A simple gesture of homage.
I am caged.
Like a bird, I may
Sing, but who may
Hear my song,
Who can hear
My cries?
My lungs may burst
From my efforts,
But the song will
Never be heard,
The bird will
Never be free.
Only in the imaginings
Of the simple creature
May it ever hope to
Escape,
To be
Free.

I miss that place
Where I used to be:
My childhood land
With the lilac tree.
I miss that grass,
And those golden fields,
The times we used twigs
For our makeshift shields.
I miss that pond,
With the brand-new deck,
Where we’d use a canoe
To make our trek.
I miss that barn,
With the musty stalls,
Which I never minded,
Never minded at all.
I miss the house
On the big, tall hill
With the dark green shutters
Above the windowsills.
I miss our swings
And the climbing tree
That stained our hands
And feet and knees.
I miss the horses
And their comforting smell
With sparkling eyes that
Held my secrets well.
I miss the path running
Through the woods
Where I skipped and laughed
As lively as I could.
I miss my grandfather
and his good ol’ dogs
and doing chores
and catching frogs.
I miss my grandmother
And her sweet smile
As I sat in her kitchen
And did dishes awhile.
I miss those strays,
The cats we had,
Whose kittens we’d catch
And get scratched real bad.
I miss those days
As we lay in the sun
Soaking up all the rays
And just having our fun.
I miss those cats,
And their colorful fur,
Especially Buttercup,
My favorite, her.
I miss dear Grandma
And her warm hugs
And her talent and her laugh
And her homemade rugs.
I miss ol’ Gramps,
And his mischievous ways
and him talkin’ fast
and us balin’ the hay.
I miss that path
That meandered in the trees
Where the branches creaked
And whispered in the breeze.
I miss the horses,
And the bridle leather
And feeding them oats
In all kinds of weather.
I miss the swing,
All knotted and worn,
And the mulberry tree
Where our clothes were torn.
I miss that hill,
With our little house,
That held just us
And sometimes a mouse.
I miss that barn
With the stalls and hayloft
Where the sparrows gathered
And the hay was soft.
I miss the pond
Where my favorite horse died
And I sat next to the water
And I remember I cried.
I miss the grass
That grew thin and tall
And hid all the bugs
And stole our baseballs.
I miss that place
From my childhood,
But I’ll never forget it.
I don’t think I could.

Pale, filtered
Moonlight streams
Through the windows
And strokes her
Face as she sways,
Back and forth,
To the music,
Every note caressing
Her ears; little
Lovers coming
And moving on,
Making her cry.
Small rivers
Appear on her
Moonstruck cheeks,
And I want to
Reach out a hand
To wipe them
Away, but the music
And my shyness
Keep me in
My secluded spot behind
The curtains.
Her elegant figure
Continues to sway
In some entrancing
Way, a siren call,
But no man will
Meet her request.

The music is lulling
Me to sleep, and
I still see the slow
Swaying as my eyelids
Drift shut.
A trumpeting announcement
Calls my attention,
And as my eyes spring
Open, I see the girl
Is gone.

I have missed my chance.

As though she is still
There, a call beckons
Me to where she last
Stood, and I rush to
The very spot--
I take in everything:
The very moonlight
That kissed her where
I might have,
The smell of her
The panes were
Taking in where
I might have,
The cool, crystalline
Glass that caught
Her tears where
I might have.
As I stood in my
Small grievances,
I felt a small hand
On my shoulder.
I turn, and see
Her standing there
In all her glory,
Commanding my
Attention by asking
For none.
I stared at her hand,
For I could not meet
Her eyes, and
Followed the fingers
To her delicate wrist,
To the prominent elbow,
To the proud shoulder,
To the graceful neck,
To her quivering chin,
To her blossomed lips,
To her peeking nose,
To her dazzling eyes.
I made it there.
I saw they were made
Of the rarest of emeralds,
Shining beneath a brow
Of inquiry:
Who might I be?
Without words,
We understood
One another,
She related her pain
Of family and lost
Relationships,
I of heartache and
Rejection.
We stared at one
Another,
Unsure of what
To do.
Our bodies moved
Simultaneously
Towards each other,
Where our heads
Bent, our fingers
Met, and our lips
Locked in the sweetest
Of embraces to the
Tune of the
Waltz.

I can’t sleep,
Thinking of your face.
It keeps me up nights,
When my body aches
And all I want is
Sleep,
Escape.
I can’t sleep,
Thinking of you.
How we used to be.
How we fought,
And I’d be angry.
And I’d grit my
Teeth and swallow
The words like a bitter
Pill you have to take
In the mornings
But really don’t
Want to.
How I refused to
Hold your hand
Or talk or look at
You.
I can’t sleep,
Thinking of that.
Of how you’d gently
Pull apart my fist
And hold my hand in
Your big fingers.
How you would hold
Me even when I didn't
Want you to.
How our bodies fit
Together like mismatched
Puzzle pieces that
Really shouldn’t fit with
Anything at all,
But fit with each other
Somehow.
I can’t sleep,
Thinking of you.
How I hate myself
For missing us.
For wanting all
We had before,
All the madness
And anger and
Hurt.
But all the love
And happiness
And good-feeling
Stuff, too.
I miss that.
I miss you.

I loved you
From the third
Day we met.

I’d say the first,
But society says
There’s something
Wrong with loving
Someone just because
They wore a Star Wars
t-shirt the day they
met you.

So it was the
Third day
For me.

Your tiny smiles
And witty humor
Got me right away.
You didn’t worry
About hurting my
Feelings by poking
Fun at me, even
Though we didn’t know
Each other.

That’s love.

It was in the glint
Of your eyes,
The teeny
Mischievous
Part you don’t
Always show,
That got me.
I knew we’d have
Adventures.

And you liked
The stuff that
I liked, the movies
And music
And being silly
For no real
Reason at all.
That’s love.
You dressed so
Strangely, so
Much like
A kid who
Just didn’t
Care what others
Thought, that
Stick-it-to-the-man
Mindset.

It threw me
For a loop,
Not knowing
What you’d
Really be like.
It made you
Interesting--
Dangerous,
Almost.

That’s love.

So we explored
And dove and
Spelunked
And did all
That crazy stuff
Everyone said
We’d never do.
We did it.

And we fought
And we yelled
But we never hit
And that’s alright
Because everyone
Has to get angry
Sometimes.

But we were okay.
Just okay.
For a long, long
Time.

And then it stopped.

The okay part.

All of a sudden,
There was a lot
Of sadness
And a lot of
Hurt
And I didn’t know
Where to put it
But in so that’s
Where it stayed
And the okay
Parts stopped.

Inside and out.

That’s love, too.

From that third
Day, to the 25th,
To the second month
To our 15th date,
I loved you.
For all the reasons
I said and for
Hundreds more.

But I had to
Let you go.

I had to go
On and you
Had to stay.

And that’s love.

Knowing when
To say goodbye.