If Memory Was Made of Glass

Perhaps I’d see it clearly…

If memory was made of glass,
And I could see right through,
Perhaps I’d see it clearly: how
It’s always been with you

Perhaps then I could understand
What led you to each choice:
The demons on your shoulder, and
Your broken inner voice

But such has not been mine, as yet –
Clear-sighted memory –
And so I search these waters for
Some bit
Of clarity

Palms & Pavilion

I took a date down to these waters
Many years ago;
To talk and watch the day go down
From light to indigo

And she was right next to me, I
Inhaled her with the air –
A scent I still remember
As though I was sitting there

And friends, among the many things
I know that I have lost;
The roads I will not find again,
The gone whose paths I’ve crossed

She sits inside me, always,
Ever beautiful, and one:
Amid palms & pavilion
At the setting of
The sun

= = = = =

Photo credit : © Erichinson | Dreamstime.com – Palms & Pavillion, Gulf Coast Photo

A Certain Kind of Trouble

The kind of trouble that she was
I’d never known in all my days;
But found in new and countless ways
That trouble is as trouble does

Entrancing in her loveliness,
And seemingly so soft and sweet:
I found her virtue truly fleet,
For she, at heart, was pitiless

Our troubles take a certain shape.
I sought, from her, a higher ground:
But when I breathed her in, I found
A trouble I could not
Escape

walking dream

the morning shyly moves away
in waves of mist and cream;
and i move damp with spray and sand
into a walking dream

the dimly cast horizon sits
beyond the veil of sight;
where time stands loosely, hands by sides,
and day melds into night

your breath i hear, your touch i feel,
as light as feathered gauze;
the scent of ocean waves and kelp,
as hope – with its own laws

and so the mists of morningside
surround and pierce through me;
the walking dream of one who’s still
at one with
destiny

Morning Friend

Just sitting by the sea.

A morning friend by me
Just sitting by the sea;
I do not know where all she’s been,
As she does not know me

As lives are circumspect,
And fortunes sometimes wreck’d,
We find here on this sandy wet
Our brief lives intersect

My morning friend and I
Just watch the waves go by:
Before the day that I must trudge
And she, in turn,
Must fly