Sunday, October 27, 2013

Four Dogs On A Free Afternoon

Lemonade light washed over stones
we hiked through a burst of dry falling leaves 
from shadows in a shallow valley i pushed higher
autumn colors played tricks on me
old field stones sat waiting uphill
a home without walls 
just remnants now -- a cast iron stove, old ceramic utensils, and no one anywhere that remembers
the pug stumbles toward me and sits where mossy ground is warm
i tell him, if you want the sun, go up…
and we were up
a high point with horizon all around
wrapped in forest walls where the breeze steals my voice

I have not liked my words much lately, but I remember reading that even bad poetry , for example, is something.
What is creativity? Every day is a story. I remembered the way sunlight rippled on Lily's fur. The other dogs found comfort on soft moss or heat soaked earth where they stretched and sniffed autumn's breeze. Calling to Hershey, my voice vanished in the wind.

Solace on a simple day.
Going to hand out candy later and serve a few beers. 

Closing time -- a gentle neon low light, background blues and a glass of wine.
Solace on a simple night.

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Cyan Pales 

The day's sapphire died in a cranberry sunset

you're just another heartache
you'll fade too

Autumn's lavender and cinnamon day
was quick to give her light away

i saved a photo of you
a tide that won't come back


I want to say a thousand things. I want words in an avalanche, but my thoughts are quiet. My lips silent.

Maybe I should just push my fingers along the keys.

Halloween is close. Maybe I can get outside myself awhile...