mourning mist

We laid you to rest
under steel gray skies
the sun refusing to shine

A mist
fine and damp
coated the
world and amplified
our mourning cries

Winds whipping
trees bent under
the onslaught
of harsh autumn winds

As if Nature herself
mourned you and
was determined in her grief
to punish the survivors

that had been left behind
in the world cold and barren
without your light
learn to live
in the darkness

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since the dawn of time
and again

i find you


living inside me
as a whisper
and a shout

living beside me
as gentle rain
and a hurricane

You torment me

with love
and indifference
and hate

fate and destiny
laugh behind their hands
as our emotions
beyond normal

the snap back
causing the sonic boom
that defines me
loving you

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Standing in the mist, lost and alone. She senses him before she sees him.

He hesitates before softly taking her face in his hands; gently he wipes the age that has gathered there.

I’ve been waiting for you he says as he envelopes her. His arms wrap tightly around her waist.

She inhales his scent. A faint hint of grease and loose tobacco. She sighs and sinks into his embrace

She is home.

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Vignettes from childhood

I remember when Wonder Bread had holes and we would
eat it smeared with fluff and peanut butter and
days playing in the dirt and running through the back alleys
and scaling hills we thought were mountains

I can still hear the scrape of small wooden spoons
as we eat rainbow Italian ice sitting on the stairs
hands and faces sticky in the mid-afternoon sun

I remember lying in the back of the station wagon
thinking that an upside down world would be fun
swimming through the sky and burrowing into the clouds
that would taste like cotton candy, sticky and ethereal

I remember summer days steeped in heat and humidity
kiddie pools with built-in slides, hydrants turned to water spouts
sitting on curbs with feet braced against the onslaught of the racing water

I remember half-ball games and manhole covers doubling as second base
Games of Red Rover and fields of clover someone named Daisy
An older boy jumping into storm drains to retrieve the ball because none of us were clever enough to remember to block it

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We are - I think, the best of things
Paving roads with good intentions
Too often it seems we're only fooling ourselves 
For no one really understands the mission
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a girl

she stands alone swaying in her indecision. worrying at her bottom lip with her small white teeth. her hand reaches tentatively for the comfort of her hair. slowly she winds her finger in the tendril escaped from her pony tail. the toe of her converse-clad foot traces circles on the floor. she looks out from half closed eyes to the world around her. a sigh soft and barely audible escapes her. she waits…

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Autumn, revisited

Summer fires
that smell of marshmallows
and sun-kissed skin fade
as smoke sharp and pungent
scents the crisp fall air

Sparks dance
alongside tendrils of smoke
curling softly in the dusky hues
of shortened days
mingle with cooling air
a familiar tang
lingers at the back of your throat

Autumn has returned

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