• "To everything there us a season and a time to every purpose under heaven" Ecclesiastes
• Perhaps the hardest thing about losing a lover is watching the years repeat its days. It is as if i could dip my hand down and scoop up blue and green lozenges of april heat a year ago in another country. I can feel that other day running underneath this one like an old videotape - here we go fast around the last corner up the hill to his house.
• When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd
• Do not ask what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you alive. Then go and do it. The world needs living people
• don’t forget that somewhere between hello and goodbye, there was love.
• The Daily Evolution of Life

Scarlet hues illuminate the evening sky, The Sun casting His usual heavenly glow on the earth. Every evening I tune into this spectacular show, Poised solemnly on my balcony.

This evening's sunset is different from the last. Yesterday's being more orange than today's pink. A funny thought conjures. Perhaps life is like the sunset; Ever-changing, Ever-present, Ever-evolving. No day is like the one before. Yet it's beauty and solemnity are in constance.

• The Moon and I.

The moon sits prettily, Her perch in the sky unmistakable. She is in her second quarter, Having shown her beauty in fullness days ago.

• My eyes are my greatest gifts.

Pools of honey Survey my world. My beautiful, tender landscape.

I find warmth, In the greens of the leaves, The pinks, oranges of the sunsets.

Mother Nature cradles me tenderly. Her comforting arms bring peace to my being. I lie against Her breast, As She shows me Her kingdom divine.

Yet at the back of my mind, Worry plants itself, As the rotted corners Caused by the flesh of her womb, Poison her.

• Coming home is terrible

Whether the dogs lick your face or not Whether you have a wife or just a wife shaped loneliness waiting for you Coming home is terribly lonely so that you think of the oppressive barometric pressure Back where you have just come from with fondness Because everything is worse once you are home You think of the vermin clinging to the grass stalks Long hours on the road roadside assistance and ice creams And the peculiar shapes of certain clouds and silences with longing because you didn't want to return Coming home is just awful and the home style silences and clouds contribute to nothing but the general malaise clouds such as they are are in fact suspect and made from a different material than those you left behind You yourself were cut from a different cloudy cloth returned Remaindered Ill met by moonlight Unhappy to be back Slack in all the wrong spots Seamy suit of clothes Dishrag ratty worn You return home Moon landed Foreign The earth's gravitational pull an effort now re doubled dragging your shoelaces loose And your shoulders etching deeper the stanza of worry on your forehead You return home deepened A parched well linked to tomorrow by a frail stand of Anyway You sigh into the onslaught of identical days One might as well, at a time Well anyway You are back The sun goes up and down like a tired whore The weather immobile like a broken limb While you just keep getting older Nothing moves but the shifting tides of salt in your body Your vision blears You carry your weather with you The big, blue whale A skeletal darkness You came back with x ray vision Your eyes have become a hunger You come home with your mutant gifts to a house of bone Everything you see now, all of it Bone