Trying to bloom wider

Trying to bloom wider
Spread like wild strawberry
Flower heads too heavy
The stem cannot carry

Yet the forget-me-nots
Forgotten, so it goes
Baby's breath to funeral
Flowers a dried blood rose

The woods are the color

The woods are the color
Of an unplanted field
The grass, the color of
A red apple just peeled

The sun has set into
Strong Atlas's shoulders
As the day slips into
A cloud unmarked folder

From years of make believe

From years of make believe
To present reality
From vanishing of dreams
To practicality

What happens to false hopes
The bridges never built
Canyons getting deeper
In sediment and silt

Another accident

Another accident
A random collision
Nothing is adding up
Always a division

Arrows never fly straight
And the World isn't round
Flaws and discrepancies
Abundant and abound

I am buried too deep

I am buried too deep
I can't come up to bloom
Even the hungry squirrel
Can't uncover my tomb

Above me the Spring sun
As I struggle and fight
The season will pass me
Yet I cannot find light

In this unique but brief

In this unique but brief
Rare form of existence
Our efforts are met with
Exhausting resistance

To find a plateau or
A long level of calm
A butterfly resting
In the World's open palm

Red barns and brick houses

Red barns and brick houses
Road exits far apart
But traffic grows thicker
The closer to the heart

Forests disappearing
The fields have met their fate
Parking lots and strip malls
Tress bound by a steel grate

To never have this day

To never have this day
Sunny window panes fall
On the floor at my feet
No answer when I call

An evening in comfort
Together we would spend
Finally off to bed
Another day to end

A walk across the park

A walk across the park

On a partial Thursday

To greet the morning sun

That will go on its way

But never see it set

A period, the end

A doorway into death

I cannot comprehend

All the water towers

All the water towers
Can be seen from up here
Distance may be farther
But never felt more near

Winter just beginning
Where did the autumn go
Its colored leaves now brown
Receptacles of snow

A noun and not a verb

A noun and not a verb
It never saw action
No arms reaching out far
My touch or reaction

Like a book never read
The binding not broken
Was it only a thought
With words never spoken

Verses getting shorter

Verses getting shorter

Christmas carols followed

By strains of Auld Lang Syne

Three sixty five swallowed

A western star still sleeps

While morning in the east

Rises with light blue sheets

To pull across this feast

Church spires reaching nothing

Church spires reaching nothing

Above forgotten graves

Mothers, fathers, children

And princes, paupers, knaves

And countless more to fall

The mighty and the weak

Stones to keep their spirits

Buried deep underneath

The darkness has loose threads

The darkness has loose threads

It’s underpinned in white

Linen peeking through like

Stars on a winter’s night

Rising to the top from

The bottom of the sea

The sun like broken plates

Dancing high above me

Hairline crack, no bell sound

Hairline crack, no bell sound

Limping close to the floor

Dropping loves and friendships

To fit the narrow door

Into a smaller room

Where the ceiling hangs low

With no movement of air

Yet a strong undertow

Wading in the future

Wading in the future

Trying it on for size

Even though it’s not here

Something to realize

Is it a trophy cup

Or second or third prize

Will it fail to medal

Exultations or sighs

I went looking for stars

I went looking for stars

As dirt rose from my feet

Wanting success, finding

Compromise and defeat

And when the dust settles

Will you see that I’ve tried

A lit match for a star

Good intentions implied