History and Anatomy*

every place has a past- 
some older and darker than others.
crumbling headstones 
tell stories of names and numbers
and we are left to guess the rest.
my history entails unrest and the 
moments your glances graced me,
but I could never guess the rest.

every heart has a past.
my veins have each pumped
to the beat of your song
one time or another. 
others have studied me closely,
examining my fingers and lips 
searching for a cure to my indifference. 
they have not read your research, 
so they can never guess rest. 

interdisciplinary studies unite here,
as the past presents itself 
to me in the palm of your hand.  
chapters about love and war,
sickness and health.
though I've studied for years
I can not pass your test,
and I am forced to guess the rest.

20 ft waves and the catnip crazies

kitty, you're running from the storm
looking for a nook that's warm
the wind has tossed your mouse about
now you pace and meow a shout
so I will tuck you in with me
where you were always meant to be

slipping slowly

for Grams
bide your time and i'll spend mine
with you on the faded blue couch.
your needles in the cross-stitch
weave flowers to pass your days.
nodding in and out
sleepy and forgetful,
you slip slowly away.
the hours that used to be ours
now belong to the buzz and sigh.
turquoise and diamonds fall
from your failing fingers so you
smuggle the gems into my hands.
grey- blue, the memory
behind your paling eyes
sparkles a little still
as you tell me i am pretty.
i'll bake you petits fours and
gently powder your cheeks
to remind you of who you were
and of who i am to you.

some day, when i'm awfully low

For Grayson
i wish i could sing to you again, little man.
though now you've grown into your cleats,
and you may not want to cuddle into my arms.
i rocked you slowly, your infancy charmed me-
your even breath on my neck
how i wish that you could remember it, brother.
when your chubby fingers held small cars
we laughed in the sand, you held my hand
and i kissed your flushed cheeks.
now i've missed your milestones
as i sit here alone in my home.
i've prayed for the divide to close
for the miles to melt
for you to hear my voice
clearly and sincerely, without a phone.
i wish i could sing to you again, little man.
beside the rain-spotted window
when things were simple
and we shared the same name.
though i am far and time has stolen away
i still hum our song before i sleep.

losing again*

i know that i lie
i used to know why
but now it's just a game
an attempt to stay sane
you were my first rule
but now i'm a broken fool
making calls in the rain

i had a dream i got through
and i believed what i knew
and the words came on
and on and yet i hadn't won
i can't find rest til i can
and then you'll see me stand
in front of you (then gone)

you're the one who can see
the transparent shame in me
through the lies
right to my demise
you can unseat your kings
and i'll wear my rings
as our last chance dies

the other side of morning*

it rolls in gently on the heels of
sleepy, atlantic waves
washing up debris of days passed.
the stones and shells of memories
scatter across sands of time,
this side of dawn will not wait
for me to tie my shoes.

early songs of the day are lullabies
for those who chase away the light
and sleep to dream of stars.
but i am far from home,
windswept and cautious
hoping to etch my name on shores
of change.

i washed away,
balancing on the pale thread of
morning's transformation.
i can not feel your waves
and you missed my call.
though we were not meant to share
these hours, we still may.

you roll in on the winds of my regret
tossing my hair and affections
in your untamed breeze of years gone.
you live in these unknown hours
while i sleep on the line of waking.
you could find me here,
i could find you there.

possibility

somewhere between the expectations and circumstances
i found myself hollowed
and searching
for what? for whom?
meaningless details.

building dreams from faded smiles and hopes
what i have found
ages me
and for what? for whom?
loveless details.

thieving with sideways glances my heart leaps
finding stories
for my own
forward? backward?
forget details.

the world spins and breathes for the masses
i'll feel it yet
vibrant and new
forever?
details.

time, again*

when sugar maples glow plum and gold
we breathe this year's ashen breeze
smoky and aged in barrels of promise
we wait for the rush of geese and snow

clouds hang low their woolly manes
soft and grey above autumn's oaks
shaken and windswept, we are crimson-
flushed, gently calling for change

i'll say farewell on the mossy stoop
though it greeted me with colored leaves
on more whimsical afternoons years ago
but now a northern rustling bids me to go.