23 and You and Me

Yesterday I realized From the white-knuckle silence She wouldn’t let go That I am still unborn A point of no focus Not ready yet For her words that ring love May never be ready yet For that chuckle from her eyes...

Got up in the morning, Still reeling from Night visions Awoke to a quiet home Empty kitchen New tigerwood floors Wistfully filled up my expectations Raising up my hopes Will she like them? Sixteen miles of Tehachapi...

Someone come bury me Don’t wait for me to die When poets are being buried, what of my death See my cut heart Feel its split aches Hear its wild echoes There, see it pushing its way Up through my throat, my eyes...

A wave of somethings appeared out of nowhere Thoughts, recollections and some debris Some, questioning if my memory is true Others, smiling with kindness at me— but still unhappy at my worries That I didn’t create...

She said this morning, “I don’t know what I am in for, Am I lucky or unlucky…” Ask me why I didn’t say anything, And more important, why I didn’t feel Anxious that she said this. I...