Nothing Much

Grainy scrape
of a knife
on brown bread.

Butter melts slowly
releasing a sweet
familiar aroma

to blend with the redolence
of hot black coffee
resting nearby.

There is jam but I
am a purist today.


as the arrow
that split the arrow
his words addressed
her heart.

A living
fountain sprang up.

Come and see
a man who told me
everything I ever did.

And they came.


A Warm Day in Winter

A familiar breeze lifts
the curtain that masked
a brown sparrow dancing
just out of view.

My teapot sings.


Baton Rouge

She loved the words.
Sometimes she'd say
..............bah-ton rhujh
as though she'd
been there before.
Other times it was
...............batten rooj.
Always though it was
pleasant to hear
...............her voice.


Solitary boat
rocks quietly on
a darkened sea.

Have you heard the gulls
laughing as they fly?

The sound of something
...................... ethereal floats
on invisible currents
above the crash of surf.

Old friend where
...........have you gone?


Reach me

Not "touch me".
Make me see who
.........you are
deeper in.

You've made it plain
that you
want to be my friend.

Open up.


The Girl Could Sing.

Her voice was smooth
and warm and
something indescribable.

Music loved her
and that was mutual.

To blend voices
was to float
rudderless on a wide
deep river.

You knew she'd
take you
drifting luscious
and long
on the undulating current
of her song

to some familiar
unknown place alone
...........strangely satisfied.

The Wrong Thing

It was out there
and shining as
a new coin and I
was helpless
to bring it back.

You knew
it wasnt
what I meant to say
but couldnt
let it go.


About a Girl

Sometimes she was
simply wonderful

but so often
wonderful poison.


We drifted in and out
of shops and galleries.
Had lunch at the Mile High Cafe.
She struggled up
steep streets.
Rested on a short bench
when she needed.

It was a thing she wanted.
Just we two without
complication of others.
Awed by the wide
Verde' Valley.


Up The Alley

Facing the darkness I stood
let the pain go out my
fingers onto the pavement
as a gray evening
slipped across my town.

Hours ago there had been
no one inside
and the yellow sun rode up
like Icarus without wax.

Downtown windows were
transient barriers dividing
my world from others
who drifted where the clock

They were empty
colorless bottles adrift
on the moving
waves of the city
without messages

I waited
drawing breath by moments
exhaling only when I
remembered it was
best to breathe.

My eyes were steady.
Unwaivering monitors they took
in the scene around me
but gave nothing
of my motive away.

Now it was evening and work
was waiting to be done.
With a quick snap I turned
up the alley
tied on the white apron
and stepped inside.


Hidden Deeper In

We frequentlly walked beside
a dead train that sat
on abandoned track against
her father's land.

Afternoons we'd climb
up into the old
playing word games
telling secrets.
Now and then an owl
would call from
..............some tree
hidden deeper in.

Our souls knit.
We shared each other's dreams
walking together even
............................in sleep.



"Hold on", she would say, as if
something urgent
had just come into her mind.

"Did you hear that?" and we
                           ...      ..   never did.
Her senses were sharper.
We were tag-alongs.
                       I hated that.