Anniversary Shoot

they told their story
one in a million chance
truly, math whiz
she calculated the odds
sixty seconds different
a few toasty degrees
another wrong turn
so many ways it could have gone
if not for that day
they never would have met
and the alternative timeline seems sad
not to see the joy
shining from crinkled eyes
or his hand reaching for hers
without looking or thought
and the new life growing
sadder than Shakespeare tragedy
to imagine another wrong turn
a few toasty degrees
sixty seconds different
for this calculated miracle
of incalculable bliss

Internal Earthquake

internal earthquake
feeling the pitch and reel
but only in my head
chasing a seat
quick as the hare
but slowing to not upset
until I'm perched
fixed pointed gaze
willing the end of movement

"Do you do birthday parties?"

idle chatter
with an eavesdropper
sliding in seamlessly
making requests that floor me
because it's a hobby
capturing moments on film
resident photographer
labelled like it's a real thing
and not a game I play
but he doesn't laugh
straight in the eyes
wondering the camera type
and if I would be free
before leaving with child in arms
with me in confusion

Wish (for) Granted

shame on you
looking past the point
beyond declarations of deed
like ships passing
you watch the movement
and think you know the destination
his port in the storm
always by your blind side

Mouse Hunting

skin tight
and muscles twitching
remembering the execution
as I watched his shallow breath
imagining panic behind his eyes
when the blow fell
flushed with justification
and equal horror
at the necessity

Only Skimming the Surface

the words don't come
and so it's only halfway
part of a thought
fraction of a dream
conversation caught in my throat
because I want to tell the whole story
not the cliff notes
hitting the high points misses the depth
but the truth is more than I can say
fathomless even where I dip a toe
so that drinking it in would drown you
only sips that catch in my throat

Pause the Circle of Life, Please

handed fear like a gift
smiling with a thank you
and I carried it to her door
hidden, tucked above my lungs
making each breath a chore
fighting the inevitable
because partings hurt
where the knife (the life) separates
yet hope bears my weight
even burdened with fear
and so she chatters on
oblivious or simply numb
to the tension in my limbs
having seen it before
that I let go
not forgetting or accepting
but denying for the sake of joy
because courting sorrow
only tints the hours
never slowing the hands

Highway 21 Detour

construction turned me away
down roads not on my map
snaking through gravel paths
each T a decision
judging distance and direction
hoping the next hill held the answer
and yet the journey became a story
finger nod from the trucks approaching
a wordless conversation of greeting
rolling view of corn in neat squares
until pavement flowed beneath my wheels
back on the map again

Instant Home

up the driveway and here
like visiting a stranger
big brown house so unlike your style
yet you open the door
unaware of the aberration
as if my history wasn't uprooted
bitten tongue greetings
and prerequisite tour

two full clock turns
become a new establishment
feet curled on a couch
or perusing a stocked fridge
connecting with the surroundings
not as rooms of yesterday
but filled with your today
that feels like instant home

Which Side of Light

driving into the falling sun
light washing color from the landscape
gray skyline with its rolling hills of beige
black boxes of trucks before me
with their forbidding height
and multitude of wheels
man-made mountains traveling the road
yet the mirror gleams in technicolor
emerald on my heels, always just one step
how different the light can be
at my back it shows the path
illuminating the possibilities
in my eyes it blinds
dulling the world to grayscale

Mercurial Calendar

at loose ends
my routine disturbed
unsettled at the base
when a day is not a day
and the hours swiftly shift
forward to be pulled back
when the days return
passing in order once more

Outmanned and Outgunned

rock paper scissors
like it isn't fixed
weighted against me
by mutual agreement
his and hers, not mine
the games we play
consenting to the failure
and I say "even in moonlight
you would shine"

Banter in the Afternoon

tossing barbs like I understand
like this conversation is real
and not some game we always play
when days are slow and time is long
dishing it out with a spatula
only to eat my own humble pie

Mail Call

a series of envelopes
oddly square in heavy paper
every few days another arrival
shower upon shower
wedding upon birth
upon endless celebration
like a scratch on the record
life lived on repeat
forever observer of the joy

Settling Debts

your pieces of eight

fragmented beyond repair

for my broken heart

Life Sketch #4

walls constricting, confining
closing him in with his thoughts
where he builds his own defenses
pacing the parapet in his mind
his grand protections nothing
one neverending circle
breeding paranoia
on a grander scale
and though it brings him naught
only echoing alone
he embraces the path
feeling larger than himself

The Journey of Sound

blasting my ears
not music we're making
only noise
loud and unbalanced
but at least in tune
as far as my tortured drums can tell
because in our tent of sound
I can hear my voice
if not my thoughts
and as it floats out
pouring down the graceful hill
the notes tumble upon each other
gentle as with consciousness
not crashing into them
but rolling up against
and tugging softly at their sleeve

The Growing Coalescence

my brain a revolving door
thoughts spinning, unfurling
and escaping partially formed
like a cake that won't rise
or the dropped punchline
my memory slipping
not from disuse, but disinterest
days bleeding together
with only sunsets to mark their passing

Treading Secrets

head full
like under water
I feel the words rise
fatalistic air in my lungs
surfacing from the depth
bubble popping in jagged shards
scratching me for my covetousness

Dye Job

liquid rust in rivulets down the drain
like polishing the old to new
steel gray halo traded in
for the slow-burn fire
and when the water runs clear
past is refinished
future warm to the touch

Leo

on the prowl for center stage
with chin held always high
not a trace of inner rage
rather a prideful sigh

regal still in plain attire
power shown from within
proof of an enduring fire
hubris their greatest sin

Monstret Runt Hörnet

stacking protection for a future unwritten
on stars, stones, or pages but still in my heart
it looms like a villain unknown or forgotten
with horrors indelible yet to impart

The Quest

on a continuing quest
search for the purpose
    the goal
what to make of a life
more than moment to moment
connected by air and conversation
in pursuit of the focus
and therefore missing the point
because the quest
    the search
    the pursuit
is life
moving through moments
not as destinations
but bricks in the road

The Option Period

ridiculous love
innocent and encompassing
it swept her floating
blind to existence past its sphere
and ambivalent to the strings attached
regarded as encumbrances
neither vast nor excessive
until seen through rose-less glasses
when the dance of restrictions
lost its romantic lustre
she wilted at the barriers
pondering the trade anew

Attack of the Tomatoes

escaping their cage
ascended above its protective rings
falling or grasping, I can't tell which
so that they nearly touch the ground again
fleeing the will of woman or gravity
but too slow for both
and with brutal force they rise
strapped in place
like a perilous mental patient
bound back into servitude
ripening for my slaughter

The Great Wall

looking back I notice the signs
like clues dropped at intervals
passing comments that floated
now heavy stones in my chest
weighing me down with the reality
of a sudden change
that had been gradually building
beneath my notice
wall of rocks
like those that slow me
one upon the other
until finally reaching my line of sight
so I can blink in confusion

Through the Doorway

do not tarry on the threshold
fingers still grasping the knob
as though you might retreat
after such a long road
step boldly through
breath catch and release

Life Sketch #7

entirely uncomplicated
with her transparent moves
and truth behind pearls
wearing disappointment
as though custom tailored
hugging lines of despair
her only warm embrace tonight

Bedside Manner

he holds my hand and my breath catches
but then slows
peace radiating from his touch
ease and light traveling my body
flowing through my veins like he's a drug
and still he holds
light as a feather yet warmly connected
slowing my heart even as he sets it aflame

Small Talk Lunch

like talking through water
slow and echoing in my ears
chewing on words
until finally spitting them out
sadly disused
while faces look past me
invisible girl
with her macerated conversation
perfunctory greetings
that gravity toys with
dropping stones on my toes
as the clock bends
bruises make their escape
carrying the ethereal shell
and a throat full of sadness

Commissioned Pleasure

snipping here and there
overlapping dovetail
with the grayscale
and slow dissolve
until the vision is found
their life, deadline now
protracted and projected
wall full of smiles
and touching cheeks
pink child scaling backs
endless humorful love