Swivel chair swings side-to-side
like a wind chime twisting in March's gusts.
Thoughts of the past fade in and out
reminiscent of film in a faulty projector.

Much is forgotten.
Denial of certain behaviors
shuns responsibility as whole
pages are wiped from his memory scroll.

Each night images play before him.
******, like a needle on a balloon,
burst thoughts of contentment
and feelings of tranquility.

How does one mute
static from past sins ,
to accept
the salve of forgiveness?

no silence
by the water,
flies buzz, mockingbirds
try for a Grammy
airplanes roar
land, leave
touch tarmac like
sparrows gather
crumbs beneath
the feet of tourist
who dine on patios

no silence,
by the water
no holes in the water
only holes in the sky as
contrails churn up
nature's cycle
no silence
buzz, sing, roar
no end

Do spiders ever
paint themselves into corners?
Humans often do.

Cats are said to be able
to see in the dark.**
Most of us as we age, stumble
when our feet, somewhat numb
set sail slow toward
midnight's bathroom call
bouncing like boats
against strong headwinds.

Unlike a teen boy whose sharp eyes
quickly pierce darkness, I am unable
to gather flecks of sight
in deepest night.
My eyes, like my feet
find some way to fight through
years of wear and abuse to
function enough to reach
my perch of relief.

Soon the midnight treks
will become so arduous
no sexton nor settings
will keep the strengthening winds
from blowing me
to whatever shore fate
has cast for me.

Dishes clang loud against the sink
Metal spoons bang white ceramic 
   Anger defies lifelong contract
Sacred and sealed with tears and tact
   Adhesive is this stone of hurt
Lumped solidly within her throat 
   No easy atonement comes forth
Nor minor distraction does soothe   
   Her rant gathers no audience
No recall of what stoked this fire

There's red on Nandina,
berries blazing among
morning's mist

Years ago you were
a sprig, shiny green
hiding below the white spruce

Once,  nearly
pulled along with other
less worthy underbrush

Like the car that braked on
time, like the strike of lightening
that missed the cabin

Survival can show
bright, radiant
veil of flaws

Gone, times of trial
evasions of destruction
hidden behind the glare

I sit in a cramped pose
filter out  laughter in the hall
notice my breath flowing
in, out….
pain in my ankles
aches up my legs
**** cheeks basking
like turtles on a rock
still, in waiting, infrequent
head peaks out of my shell
as I anticipate
revelations in my bones
and insights which will cast aside
fears of imaginary illness
fade real disasters
hanging from my ceiling
into fantasies  
destined to
scare the sweat out of me
and make me whole.