Ice blue, fluorite lights
Brisk and windy Autumn nights
Trees silhouetted against beautiful sights
Lights reaching fantastic UFO heights
A shiver away from icicle, frozen
Buoys float on water in space wide open
Life letting leave on those things broken
Water lapping shores like lava molten
Whispers in rocks surrounding each path
Knowing tales of days-passed and aftermath
A spindly tree feathered with its repeated bath
Moonlight washing away all that's wrath
Not trading here for a million or two gold
You could offer a mansion with no sign of sold
Each passing boat of enlivening cold
Remembers stories of today that were never told

What did I pause about the other day- was it at the kitchen table? I think so- I was sitting down next to my fluorite crystal- something occurred to me- it was a pleasant thought, I remember, something a bit marvelous, I winked at my pretty little stone and she winked back. Oh! I think it was sparked from Arundhati Roy’s novel God of Small Things. Or no, I think it was the smell of spring wafting through the window that transported me to sweet grass-stained jeans at six. (How Consciousness can subvert Time! Making past present, making present eternal and infinite- undermining order imposed and idealized- tirelessly trying to give itself, but faltering before the closed fist of human conquest). Or perhaps it was the language and sensation simultaneous that lifted from within me this deep affection- for what, I do not know. For everything and nothing, I suppose. For all that is and all that be—and all that must cease to be.

she likes to draw
and paint
and she likes her avocadoes.

she is afraid of the dark
avoids people in the park
and she likes her avocadoes.

her hair is copper blond
and this girl is ever fond
of green ripe avocadoes.

she has more fluorite
and lepidolite
than avocadoes,

but man oh man
does she love avocadoes.

I will put in the box,
Rainbows and happiness,
The deepest, darkest secrets of the world,
All the hate,

I will put in the box,
The badges from people of war,
The last tear of a fairy queen,
The eyelashes of Cleopatra,

I will put in the box,*
the Inevitable
The incredable
The Beautiful
The amazing

The box is made of...
A beautiful leather crafted to perfection by the gods,
Diamonds, to represent all the beauty in the world,
Rubies, to represent all that have passed,
Crystals, to represent love,
Fluorite, to represent mysteries,
Rose Quartz, to represent the felling some we try hide,
Musgravite, to represent the worlds secrets.
That is my box

Is it a splat or a plip when a drop of water hits the ground?
The pavement is glistening and glittering
The colour of the chipped yellow on the curb is so yellow it's gold
The drops are so thick I can see the crown that forms when the water collides with the ground
The downpour sounds like crumpled parchment paper
And it smells of faded fluorite
The wind is cool and the sun is warm
My face feeling fresh and my back feeling comforted
Soles scrape along the pavement
The water adds sharpness to each step
A small ravine has formed between sidewalk slab and curb
The plops of water especially grand when they sink into the cushion of this curb ravine
And waves along the cigarette bud rafts that ride the tide
February is never this kind or warm
Bare knees and open coats are everywhere to be seen
Valentines day has gifted to all
Not just the love birds
Though they all tweet in the rays of the sun
That cast glare on my palette upon which I compose this small ode
It is a precious day to see the winter fade so quickly we can watch as it decomposes