You paint me as the wild one
So you can be the calmest man in the room
Calling yourself natural sunshine
So I can be portrayed as gloom

We are quite dark in the middle
That is where I go

There are words I hold in
Drafts rooted in the stumps of my fingertips
That may never branch into trees

I have a head full of bitter
change.  Shake me gently
or it will fall out.  Do you
like me enough to tally
the aged money?

You are a stream where
people go to pray.  The
Ganges of the soul.  Weary
of the candles floating on
the prayers of lesser sinners
you ask only for confession.

You send the lighted candles
downstream.  Forgiveness
is not for the weak, and
shy of life's detritus

you weary of all things that
I leave on the edge of
sorrow.  Oh! River of my
Old age why do you

need me?


Caroline Shank

Separate your things from mine
We'll leave the rest behind
Only you and I understand
It is strange to live in this world
Imagine if we were truly free
Floating through galaxies
As little dandelion fuzz
How small we seem
To ancient skies
I fear when new horizons dawn
We will not remember
Much of anything we forgot
Our hands cupping memory like water
When we pass on, maybe through, perhaps up
Your memory will abandon you
But know you had my love

When I am in deeper waters
You can swim my body back to shore
Know my spirit is still treading
In the depths

Try as you might
You will not bleed me dry
Not of my love