drifting

sleeping dog
smiles
runs with joy
cloudy eve
leaves
raindrop songs
thoughts drift
above
landscapes serene
no stars
shine
but light
radiates
candlelight hums
tabletop
the evening
your smile
reflects
my anticipation.

when you sang

more than what was heard

here between
the silence
the music
you sing
again
brown eyes
focus only
on words
elevated
with tone
across
the crowded
room
at your
blue.

Woven

Those things that still hang
taken to the grave, buried
the grief… sorrow… and
even the love
with those last words
that echo
the darkness,
stitching that holds you
down, “…whenever I look
at you…”
and how the variants
contrasted
now only stones
in the garden
fossils that mark
the loose
connection,
a connection
none-the-less
knit and pearled
a sweater
that now
hangs
the closet hook,
its emblem
a reminder
like distant memories
snowy and cold,
the spiders
that clung
to the frosted window
and the glow
from the evening
light that creeps
the door’s gaps,
threads it all 
like
rivers that run wild
fiercely 
they pass
on untamed stories
in 
hushed and
luscious tones
woven for you
a shell to wear
the winter
of these days.

pieces

that small space
between pages turn
another time then
when hands held
pieces of green
delicate dancers
distant birds call
as dandelions smile
smile
 the walking mesa’s
fringes ancient rocks
where the Rio runs
early evening speaks
evening stars peaking
graces the edges
and softly descends.

unexplained

of the finest
these moments
transform energy
blooms compassion
with little hands
half-closed eyes
gently
steps aside
my fragile heart
begins a new song
with graceful
dancing smiles
notes
passed
along other roads
where trees
always
sway poetry
in gentle breezes
and your love
not contained
carries the river
touches bare feet
of children playing
sandy shoes
that line the door
warm cocoa memories
rich laughter
like kindness
unexplained

she sleeps

the fine line

you were so small crossing the bridge
your hand hidden in mine, fingers close round
and the rickety bridge with missing boards
the little creek singing up from below

somehow the cave at the end of the trail
seemed so much larger and darker then
such adventures unexpected were born
that summer when you were only eight

the hope returns now in Sophia’s laughter
with the same smile and little hands
that hold the dreams of our fine lines
passed down from mother to child

like the stories we told and lullabies
soothing the wrinkled days we find hope
connecting us all to each other again for
in the dreams of tomorrow, she sleeps

– Previously Published

walking shoes

how the marks tell the story

these desert days
white canvas
shoes standing
know you
worn dirt
many places seen
walking these paths
rich, rugged
rain or shine
grounded
feeling all
pebbles and stones
stepping lightly
while always
looking up.

in that unknown

what might be

steps fall
before the dawn
walking halls
while seconds
tick again
inside the
feelings
begin to
take form
surface and
gasp
their first
breath
with that
piercing
cry while
in the corner
of such a
manicured
scene lies
abandoned
the gems
once cherished
now locked
behind
cedar walls
with
old photos
of a love
what could
have been
lost to
things
unknown
and searching
turns you now
pleadingly
toward
western skies
in that
sweet unknown
twisting for
what might be
again

one day

ever did you

subzero
could not
keep you away
from the day’s fun
that day when
even the city
shut down
ever did you
play.

on any day

long white pickets neatly
standing the fence strong
beneath gray hat shadows
slightly tilted as your smile
all the stories ever told
Vaudeville songs and lore
still seeing your face there
looking past the lens in that
‘Madam Madon’ kind of way.

– For Grandpa Clyde

what lies

of that, the days carry long
stones polished and edgy
upon the paths’ canvas shoes
dusted memories roll the hill
rest upon the mossy ledge
teeter there a while before
wind softly shadows cast
twisted images dancing bares
the hope you carry daily
for what lies ahead waiting.

the welcome wanting

layers of the rough come softly

pauses the moon beside a smile waiting
the hope that raises and lowers breath
cradled in the hues that call your heart
pulls such things in all tightly wrapped

what do you call your places there
hiding in the creases folds your words
and oh the longing that hangs subtle
seconds drip these walls with melting notes

after this our days do shorten and long
into expanding lines of waning light
it wasn’t the union that he ran from
but the lady laying in the fearsome dark

when layers of the rough come softly
touches the edges of this untamed night
brings the color to her welcome wanting
covers the fading cries of love’s knife

– Previously published 2008

between the notes

like red the rain comes

cresting the mountain your welcoming light
brings with it the haze of monsoon spent

your hands reach through the seconds there
finds some comfort in the languishing night

poppies twist and smile the birthing day
catches the dew drops the trees do shed

framing – a word, a note, a wink, a sigh
carves the folds where your thoughts now lay

singing the heart of your hopeful waiting
brings with this the purple day welcomes

walking the stones that line your green edges
opens like red the rain comes tension abating

these days

– in the upside down kinda way

bending the day’s joy
you stood so tall there
lean the doorway smiling
glanced my way sideways
with mischief in the air
I saw you smile before
but not like these notes
how music made its way
made us dance the floor
these days of lavender
grow and lengthen still
while arm in arm laughing
seeing things lightly in that
upside down kinda way

of what we know

– these hurried days shout

it is with flying feet that sweeps the winter
blown in from higher places with whispers
of what we know and do not speak aloud

the lying of the rustled sand now slips past
gone so soon into another stranger’s arms
these hurried days shout the anguished sky

leaves you sitting in the darkness wondering
how patient the seconds slip into each other
when will they turn and smile down upon you

all the pretty things of what we know.

Expectations

clouds part early
open to coming
tempest fire rise
with stories old
fills the morning
air with tension
raising little hairs
on your arm again
reminder of similar
times with much less
joyful expectation.

Restless

The faint
shadows
of hope
outline
Your curly
mane
across
the pillow
Under
the threat
of another day
Venus passes
across
our mesa view
Juniper
and pinon
dance
like nervous
passion
victims
Their song
keeps me
awake.

sigh

Echos and Sighs

Moonlight defines
the curves
of her waist
Calls
to the lines
of love’s
desire
They turn
as one
in a closed
embrace
Tall grasses
play
like dark
wind’s fire
Stretched out
across
the cold
still earth
As autumn’s
stellar figures
sweep the sky
They reach
across the void
in mutual thirst
exchange
a heated kiss,
a phrase,
a sigh.

the edge

The dry chill
of desert wind
Running
through
the pain
A coyote
traverses
empty streets
together
oblivion’s edge

Captured

Phantoms formed from every breath
In the still of sleeping day
Expectations frozen blue
Silent fury of hunted prey

Captured in the morning’s chill
Venus cradled in crescent embrace
Passion worn like whispering fog
Cold and warm upon your face

A simple silhouette of a dream
Folded away like forgotten clothes
Entangled eclipse of elusive love
Ah – this is what you chose.