Come Home To Me

May 7, 2016


Will you
Tell me
I want
To hear

Will you
Come home

Will you
Stand here
With me
On the edge
Of this canyon
That never ends

Will you
Come home

Will you
Help me
Build fires
By rivers
Of wasted dreams
That never dry

Will you ever come home to me.

Serenity At Grandpa's

I have found

the moment in flight
when breathing fails
and finding
there is no longer pursuit
and crumbling

the softness of low breath
and eyebrows
the feathery half-touch
of fingers too ‘fraid
to reach

the first sip in the morning
of coffee and frost
before the world wakes
and there is no sound
or movement

a monochrome sky
of close air
and body-warmth hovering
without breeze
or desire

a precious breast
rising with rest
and repose
as the room surrounding
spins with dreams
and peace

absolution in repentance
final rest
from the rising dust
a washed spirit

Rather Fade Away

May 5, 2016


She said
I’d rather burn out
than fade away
shooting for a star
and blazing,
make it halfway

Has she missed
that it’s already like that
a wisp of breath
and we’re gone
to burn it all faster
cuts short what is already short

The lily is fleeting
the mayfly has a day
ours is short enough
not to throw anything


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