golden ~


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as the essence
of remember
floating golden thru the trees –
fingers reach beyond
the midday sun
fumbling with moments
love forgot to say –
sunlight swirls
in feeling just begun

silence wraps
the weary heart –
promise wears us down
with memory of places
yet to be
quiet proves a slow refrain
of stories never told –
verses fall
into the years

musings o’er the reasons
and wondering
the pause –
what of life and where
the leaves are blown
swept on dreams repented
by the way we hold the words
bittersweet –
the flight of love

. . .

steeples bent –

beyond the night
I sometimes go
when all the lights
are left –
moments unresolved
to time’s caress
– the needle
on the gas gauge
warned us
one more time until
we’d soar into the madness
scorch another sun
while looking back
on one more
grain of sand

in the stillness
left us lost –
aligned with stars
and counting lives
two hundred
would we know
the road ahead –
where steeples bent
apart from
numbers grieved
tears already falling
into rain

black the ash
was worn for man –
gave of truth
placed my hand
above the place we shared
times to leave
and eighteen more
sundays yet to question
years would fade
beyond our will
to stay

there are nights
I dare not close my weary eyes
forgetting once again
the way
we breathe

. . .

whispered into sorrow ~


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lest I awaken
mourning dove above my head
whispered into sorrow
by his song
will all I have
a pittance make
compared unto his loss
a place alone
where silence beats the same

sworn to birth
some other time –
before the sky burned black
was here
the reasons scattered us apart
folded as a memory
into the great unknown –
while fortune sleeps
beside us
in the dark

. . .

Sundays ~


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light on clouds

do you remember
Sundays –
how sunlight
filled the covers
how warm
the breath of coffee
brewing whispers
to the soul
a lifetime gathered
to the fold

do you remember
how it wasn’t
the same as any other –
waffles left
for later in the day
do you remember
making story
from a moment
we were touching
words –
becoming places
we will

. . .

than e’er I thought to lead ~


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saved me

what mirror mine
as daylight breaks
with pencils
once I wrote the sky
forgiving of a moment
I was lost
I was freed
of ink I never thought
to care
assurance never mine
a stronger hand
than e’er
I thought to lead

lined with story
let them change
as I have changed –
retelling of the past
another me
this remembrance
though not for fate
to let
papers split the light
as falling

. . .

I am forever grateful that my life be told with pencil rather than pen, with moments still undecided by the stars.


desire to fall ~


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their way to the sea
swallows by memory
come home
across each beginning
to a time
without name –
how sweet each surrender
to places unknown

backward and onward
set free –
ten thousand lives
to recall
mercy is taken
when all else is lost –
grace in desire
to fall

the edge of forever
but a journey began –
willing our way
to return
stars without memory
of a wish
spoke aloud –
long before night
thought to burn

. . .

in a story one night ~


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did you write
of my touch –
in a story one night
did you dream
of these years
worn away

did you swear
every memory
was mine to infer
each promise –
as light
just returning
to day

is my name
but a prayer –
at the end of your life
my heart –
but a place
still to know

do you miss
me sometimes –
do your eyes fill with tears
when reflecting
on moments
let go
don’t let go

. . .

squandered time ~


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beyond the fear
of knowing
a knowledge greater still
than all the books
in their prime

beyond the grace
of letting be –
the first sweet breath
of life –
a memory returned
of squandered time

sorrow bears
the taking back –
yet grieves for days
when all we loved
remains as tears

. . .