where and how

gather stones: the reckoning is here. figure out where and how we lost what we had built up, and why we just stopped

a different sort of cold

he travels, looking for answers. all he finds once there, is a different sort of cold, but the same old life


you ask how: this all came to be not your way — not my way — but then — you already knew: life’s intractable

somebody better

morning shines in your gray eyes, and i wonder how you’d feel if this journey had been with somebody better

what a day

arms wide out — the sky in freckled wonder born, a moment twisted into beauty stretched across this canvas


come with me, we can share some time, complaining about time and how it cheats us out of what we need the most

softly pass

touch my hand in the in-between softly pass but please know what could never really be has some existence

bring your ghosts

bring your ghosts — we feed them daily. even mine? you may ask.. oh, friend, yours are the best kind: ones that come to stay…

yes, we tried.

yes, we tried; we didn’t succeed. so, we’re here, still trying: committed to the struggle and our place in it — life is hard: hard for everyone. as for us — we’ll keep trust, knowing the perilous way life deals in whimsies