I’m really glad you’re happy I’ve worried about you I know we’re very different The things we’ve each been through For trouble’s lined your pathway With much that was not good; And decisions that you’ve made I never really understood But I have always loved you That’s unlikely to cease; I’m really glad you’re happy … Continue reading "I’m Really Glad You’re Happy"
There is an age where boys and girls are friends Before the madness comes, in puberty; When differences do not seem so remote Acceptance is their common currency...
When I last wrote about her It was at my first real dance; But soon, she was my first real love, My very first romance – And all that lovers always feel We also underwent — The crystal pure elation That we could not help but vent – And it was like real happiness Was … Continue reading "Remembering My First Real… Love"
we ran along the meadow, and climbed up in our tree; there’d never been two other friends like you and me. but we grew up and sideways, and dreamed of other fields — the friends and trees we leave behind while each still yields
her regrets, like the ocean in their immensity and constant turmoil surrounded both of us – far too real to be ignored because i loved her, i left her ocean undisturbed; because i love her, i offer only my acceptance we who live live with imperfect knowledge; we cannot know outcomes there we sat, surrounded … Continue reading "regrets, like the ocean"
Another restless night, up and down, up and down. When sleep finally came, images and stories poured in like floodwater. There’s a girl with a bicycle in a field in France; it is August – August, 1939. The war is just about to start, but she can’t know that yet. I know her in my … Continue reading "Alsatian Dreams"
I wonder if you ever knew How much I loved and envied you; Each move you made so effortless, Your carefree natural blessedness That I resented foolishly, Despite how you believed in me. For though my heart’s a universe, It has black holes in it — and worse — So now, upon the crest of … Continue reading "Forgiveness"
His girlfriend had a sister, She’d join us at the pool; That might have been pool water, Or might have been his drool I watched them every weekend, And saw the slide begin; It’s bad to mix up summertime, Hot sisters, and Sloe gin
I found myself missing the man today, because Every once in a while, I forget he died. If that sounds crazy to you, don’t worry, One day you’ll understand. Part of us never leaves the denial stage: About grief, or anything else. That’s part of what fiction is all about: Saying “no” to reality, with … Continue reading "Missing the Man"