sitting.
out back.
among
the meringue
gardenias.
the common
sense of a sunset.
to share this
obliging silence.
this stream of
engulf.
this valley dusk.
made canyon.
without you.
Photo: pixels.com
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People
Days Written In Water
Trees
clapping rhythms
for which we had
no music, days were
written in water
as you kept driving,
each of us rolling
down the windows
to see the small
town Madrids,
through increasing
torrents, with our
guide book
dogeared for all
the yesterdays.
Photo: indianapublicmedia.org
You and I
I remember somewhere
was right here
something was
welcome love
somehow was
our future –
but someday was
so long in its journey
the stars knew more
about it than
you and I ever
discovered
Photo: wppandphotos.blogspot.com
Ruby the Song of Tanagers
In his hand – a whiskey
and the ruby song
of tanagers, soft
the watersilk falls,
o’er the earth
hearts of lily,
“Oh, Tallulah,
how you dance
the room alive!”
Photo: pinterest.com
Holding Your Hand
strewn about the room –
lighthouses, gulls, the coast,
I look in your eyes and
find the blue in my own,
unwrapping a life-size
atlas of us, then holding
your hand, I turn the page
Photo: es.dreamstime.com
Saffron
For those of you missing loved ones…
I buy things I don’t need because
I need you. A fountain pen, spicy
mustard, a forestry magazine.
I walked into the tobacco store
at the mall, smelled the smoked
cheeses at Ogelvie’s, wore three
different colognes home, but you
didn’t appear. It’s raining, pouring
milk over rice cereal, I’m missing
you. I fell in love with you next
Tuesday when it snowed. And
you let me cut into the line because
“a cookbook is urgent…” like a
second soldering iron, a heavy bag
of peat and saffron.
When…
When grass stays cut
when the dog sleeps in
when the chill outside
is inside
when lemon bars are
called for
when the moon is
correct about the
light in the room –
somehow that’s autumn.
