In a still afternoon

In a still afternoon

In a near photograph

Children playing without

Surprise, chatter or laugh

A landscape painting with

Snap dragons and roses

Soft framing the artwork

Of statues and poses

Dead but not decaying

Dead but not decaying

A heavy ghost lingers

The need for letting go

Ungripping of fingers

The feelings of forest

Trees that can’t fully fall

Caught on other branches 

Of trees still standing tall 

Breaking self-promises

Breaking self-promises

Allowing fate to rule

Circumstances decide

And consequences school

The renewal of Hope

Little engine that could

Serious conviction 

To making myself good

Dry riverbed with sand

Dry riverbed with sand

Hourglasses emptied out

Time passing and passed up

Silence replacing shout

We rebuild from storms yet

No gold left to be mined

Move on, try not to be

Deficiency defined

Still connecting the plots

Still connecting the plots

To complete your image

Your mascot of love was

Purely playing scrimmage 

Professing your greatness

While my faults all the buzz

You stopped looking for me

But you knew where I was

World fury stealing days

World fury stealing days

In the swirl standing still

Valleys populating

Houses dotting uphill

Ripples make silent waves

Nesting but not nestled

Futures are unfurnished

And truth sadly wrestled

Where is an overture

Where is an overture

Yearning to cross a stream

A river, an ocean

The improbable dream

I’m final act AWOL

Through graveyards and forest

Looking for new life and

Fresh starts that are morest 

Quirks of joy on loose springs

Quirks of joy on loose springs

In all directions sprung

Fireworks, swarms of starlings

Bursts of speaking in tongue

Out of seriousness 

Even potential dark

Happiness in moments

Igniting random spark

Releasing to abstract

Releasing to abstract

Building blocks broken wide

Foundation stones rocking

Frame missing side to side

Peaceful constitution 

Clouds dispersing in sky

At first the sun then moon

Brighten the answer why

So soon the month of June

So soon the month of June

Cottonwood falling snow

Chandelier yellowwood 

Now the youngest of know

Slabs of stones are warming

The brighter green aglow

The tadpoles are teeming

Fawns following their doe

Resources replenished

Resources replenished 

Trees and spaces between

Staring upward wiser

Where squirrels nest and dream

The openness widens

Day into tomorrow 

The sky an ocean dip

The sun yellow yarrow

Were we just sharing air

Were we just sharing air

Did wave or wind persist

People peeling without

An argument or fist

Silent bubbles bouncing

Out of frame and the days

Whatever happened to

What brought our parting ways

Melancholy refrain

Melancholy refrain

Rain rising from the street

Back up to the clouds where

The skies and darkness meet

The weak stemmed peonies 

The saturated green

Red robins robbing worms

Overwhelm to serene

We turn around and years

We turn around and years

Ships becoming lifeboats

Happy for surviving

And the wisdom it gloats

Still embracing voyage

Not resigned to memoir

Inviting the ocean

Southern Cross and North Star 

Internal lightning strike

Internal lightning strike

Knowing the mark was made

Clouds cannot make hard turns

The sky cannot cast shade

But my body thunders

Rain pouring through my veins

Followed by a cold front

And change in weathervanes

Not a mountain or slope

Not a mountain or slope

Touches of forest stretch

A plateau promising

Yawns of a pencil sketch

Sleeping simplicity 

Our self-conscious breathing

Swallows are sweeping both

Our abandoned sheathing 

Twenty-three years ago

Twenty-three years ago

On a Tuesday evening

Meeting with Ray Justice

Just before your leaving

Close to eight o’clock and

Yellowwood tree flowers

Hung like bright chandeliers 

To light the darkest hours

Emptying my pockets

Emptying my pockets

Dreams became souvenirs 

Currency not spent might

As well be boutonnières

Tightening of the belt

And the shoelaces tied

Prepared for day to day

But not should have or I’d 

A before before me

A before before me

Green as the start of Spring

Hopeful as a robin

Or a migrating wing

The wiser eye still sealed

The heart not as refined

Changing and grappling to

Widen the open mind

The contents of the World

The contents of the World

Tsunami in the heart

The calmness of Brahms breath

Turns to Rite of Spring start

Puncturing peace with push

That will not stop until

I find my sense of self

Amongst the overfill 

Enthusiasm’s rope

Enthusiasm’s rope

My old hands are sweating 

Stalling in the climb I’m 

Assessing my fretting 

Adrenaline shedding

Purpose into question

Must chinny up inches

Satisfy ascension