First-Time Eyes

See the shooting stars come down;
Clouds in cities near the ground,
Wonderland of dusk, and moon,
On a hill in fading June.
Old eyes smiling see again
First-time eyes are glowing —

Crickets, frogs, and cars, and breeze,
Sounds ignored that sudden please;
Questions asked in gabbled voice,
Words of answering rejoice —
Old ears grinning hear again
Summer winds are blowing —

Sometimes, hope seems lost and gone,
Night has won – defeated dawn –
Hence the cycle of new birth:
Hope again returns to earth.
Girls and women, boys and men —
Love is


what is your truth? what have you seen
when no one else was there to see?
is there a lonely spot of road
that's made from you or maybe me?

you knew one in the wintertime
when walls were painted with despair
and no place that you went preferred
to anywhere
or everywhere

what is your plot? your character? 
  your theme?
why do you linger over post, 
  or meme,
or stare at empty screens and wait 
  for words?
or dream of flight, while sealing out 
  the birds?

the lonesome road of wintertime
the isolated way;
the habits that are character,
the token we must pay
to see while we have eyes to see,
and not to look away:
for humankind is horrible
past what mere words can say.

our eyes look down,
the raptors coil above:
it's only love that is our hope,
and all our hope must be
in only

bride, like the wind

the yesterday it must have been
was years ago, they tell me now;
we stood stood outside, while sea and sun,
both, envied you your grace –

you said you would, i said i did;
some music and a spotlight dance,
a little while in a car,
a soft look on your face

why are my hands so wrinkled now?
where are you? what was that i felt?
a wind that rushed by in the night
with rustling silk, and lace —

my bride, my love, i know you’re here —
just pull these tubes from off my face
and we’ll be on the beach again,
and you’ll be all in white —

the breeze is blowing in your hair
you’re smiling once again at me
the day is back, where it belongs
i can let go
of night

So Much Nothing

So people asked me what we did
On our week long vacation;
And I said, “We did nothing,”
And those same folks show frustration —

“You must have done, well, something.
And you just don’t want to say –”
But I swear, we did nothing, for
We like it best that way

For I say nothing is a thing
There’s plainly nothing wrong with —
For so much nothing is enough
For us to get
Along with

Come, place your lonely head upon my shoulder…

“The days, the years, they go…”

Come, place your lonely head upon my shoulder,
And breathe love in within this quiet place;
The days, the years, they go – we all get older –
But love is not just for the young of face

I’ll lightly touch your brow, and push your hair back;
And hold you next to me, my one desire —
For you are all, and everything, to me, love:
You’re every wealth I could hope to acquire

So many words around us in a buzz:
But love is not for them
It is
For us