We watch as the mist ripples through air on the mountain. 
Whispers of fog settling in, an impending quarrel.
The sky refuses to show his face like some elusive lover. 
Earth, in an attempt to reconcile,
reaches her slender branches toward him from her weighted bluff, 
but he will not answer.

Different This Time

I thought it would be different this time. 

I thought I would look into your eyes and we would know.

I thought you would hold me forever 

and I wouldn’t give in so easily.

 I guess I thought you would be different this time.

Love Me

Love me. Love me and I will love you. 

Give me your heart to be my heart and when it beats my blood will flow through your veins. 

Let your eyes not wander beyond me, and my eyes will always adore the splendor of your frame.

Love me. Love me and I will love you.

Let your hands find both a resting place and room for discovery on my skin,

two travelers journeying the distance of my body; 

and my hands will always find their home in exploring you.

Let your lips touch only my lips,

your mouth share only my breath,

and I will nourish you as you sustain me.

Love me. Love me and I will love you. 

Let your glittering poetry and words of praise be spoken only of me, to me

and my words will serve to validate all of you forever. 

Let your soul be sewn to mine, and I will always be part of you.

Love me. Love only me and I will love only you.

My Heart

I will not give my heart so easily. 

You must win it in small degrees. 

Your hands to practice both desire and restraint.

Your words to prove at once honest and poetic. 

Your life for my life. Your own heart in return.

Tonight is a Night for Neruda

Tonight is a night for Neruda on the mountain…

his words spill from my mouth as if separate from my voice, 

hanging in the thick fog like their own sort of cloud...

waiting...

waiting for when they will rain on the earth and be joined together again. 

Will we, when the weight of our worlds begin to rain, be joined together also? 

I felt you once, the boldness of your hands nearer to my life than my own skin.

Two hearts an afternoon brought together, 

a night torn apart,..

all before we could ever begin.

Restless

The world is restless with anticipation. 

Stars light up the night like the dreams that burn in my soul. 

There is no time to wait when there is so much wonder to hold. 

Unearth the opportunities, untie the loose ends, it is time to be free; 

time to live...

time to discover the treasures buried deeper than the terrain of your skin.

Autumn is only 3 days away, but it already whispers in the air. I woke up this morning to its crisp bite on my legs and immediately my blood coursed with prose and poetry. Something about this season, it stirs those feelings of change and stability together so that I feel most aware of the present moment in the folds of its turning leaves and inviting scents. And in the midst of a present moment, of course, is the best place to write poetry. Here are my offerings today...

To A Close

Sweet persimmon flowers begin to fold up, filling the air with their fragrance.


Lightning bugs send out a final call, signaling to each other, hoping for a beacon in return.

The first of the fallen leaves rustle at my feet.

Summer is coming to a close.


Used To

I lost sight of you somewhere between good bye and the road home.
We used to laugh at the silliness of the world together,
we used to protect one another,
we used to share a moment every day...
now the phone line crackles with the silence of our breath, the effort to find words to say

The feeling of you being near began to fade somewhere between the top of the stairs and miles between us
we used to have an unbreakable bond,
we used to find warmth in daily bread,
we used to remember each other...
now the length between phone calls is longer and the space in my heart empties more.

Far Apart

I am alone here, you are with there
my heart still calls you, your heart stopped answering long ago
an eternity together, forgotten in a few short days
not so many miles, but still very far apart.