Flowers Cannot Fix It

You have this dream, that she’ll be there
At dinnertime tonight
And, if you make it perfect
Everything will be alright

But flowers cannot fix it
Cannot make this dream come true:
Don’t worry friend, she’ll smile again —
But it won’t be

With you

Standing in the stillness of the sunrise

Standing in the stillness of the sunrise. Mourning
  the loss of what she hoped to find
  that wasn’t meant to be —

But giving up the past is part of not suborning
  her loving heart to thinking that
  to settle’s to be free —

There is a place for looking back,
  there is a time for crying,
  and none of us is good enough,
  but most of us keep trying —

For everything is learning when you just keep going:
  the book you don’t get down again,
  but leave up on the shelf

Standing in the stillness of her heartbreak. Knowing
  she’s better off to feel this way,
  than not to be

  herself

Exaggerated

She went; the color left his world.
His small-town life of big-time dreams
Was squashed beneath the weight of grief,
How bad a breakup often seems

For there, surrounded by the gray,
He saw no light and heard no call:
Exaggerated though this sounds,
To him, it was not so at all

A trivial domestic mess?
No. Life is naught
When purposeless

Supposed to Be

The way that it’s supposed to be,
We’d be out there together;
We’d watch watch her grow concurrently,
Then loose her from the tether that is us.

That’s “we”, not “me” and “you”:
A family’s what we had,
But now, that’s all a memory,
That went from good to bad —

You took my hand and I took yours.
We loved behind these folding doors
We’ve folded up and stored away –
For there’s nothing to hide now

I see you in our daughter’s eyes:
I do not think you realize
That she still holds out hope for us
That you have smashed to pieces —

The way that it’s supposed to be
I’m here for you, you’re here for me;
But there’s no “here” where we can meet,
Your smash-and-grab job’s quite complete

You lost respect for me and so

There’s nowhere left for love to go

No ground left to find empathy

The way that it’s

Supposed

To

Be

Kitchen Breakaway

That morning, we awoke,
And I remember: runners on the beach,
And there was music, somewhere,
Through the open window,
As we munched our toast,
And drank our drinks in silence.

“What will you do?” I asked,
As though I hadn’t several times before,
And you said, “I arrive in Dallas
Around 6, I think, and then
It’s off to school. The program starts at 8.”

Twenty minutes later,
On the shell driveway,
We said a quite banal goodbye,
Me with my duffel bag,
And my old car was soon back on
The shoreline road, for 23 miles until,
I got back to the Interstate.

A breakup is like a knockout punch:
But this was more like
Us calling off the fight because
You had a better offer out-of-town,
And me understanding, because
It made sense for business.

Of all the mornings we’d spent in that kitchen
The one I remember best is me eating dry toast
And drinking a flat Dr Pepper
And wishing the runners on the beach

Had taken me with them

A Far And Favored World

Come to a far and favored world,
Where guide-less friends can meet
To walk among the singing stars
And smell the apples sweet

That hang from rich and luscious boughs
Along both hill and fen —
Yes, come to a far and favored world,
Where we can start again.

Come to a red and dusky place
Within the inner rim,
Where music’s sung by everything,
A universal hymn —

Come to river, come with me,
The sunrise never ends,
Come to a red and dusky place
Where we can still be friends.

Once, we sang for our supper when
These worlds were unexplored —
Once, you could trust the things I said,
And you could rest assured

That I would be where I said I was.
Yes everything was fine:
But that was before the great divide.
The fault – all of it’s mine.

Here on a far and favored world
It is my fate to stay
In all of it I wish that you could see,
But you won’t come today,

For everything broken, all that’s lost
Wherever all you are —
For here on a far and favored world
Your favor will

Stay far