when my son was younger
he asked -

how old are the mountains
from where did the First People come
why does the sun sleep in the ocean
what is the color of rain

now that my son is older
stronger, wiser and bolder
he asks -

how old are the mountains...
...what is the color of rain


some things don't change.

in all the photos
he was a young man -
my father

handsome and smiling
a useful smile

i tried to find one from later
when he was a bystander
on my street -

older, unsmiling, obsolete
- there were none

i wish i had known
how he felt

now that i do.

r ~ 11/25/14

I become
a sparrow
And hang upside down
On an imaginary branch
Pecking up on your words.

I become
A spider
weaving dreams
across the horizon,
Right then and there
you starts to tease me with
the words,
flies and butterflies.

When you talk,
The warmth of
Your words on me
make me fog
like a cold piece of glass,
now you can write on me!