I used to tread over damp ground
yet seek shelter from the rain.
Those wilted lives, half-truths
fed to half-lovers, are gone.
The hollows of your cheeks
are cracked like parched earth
from years wasted needing me to kiss you.

Minor fissures,
Just hairline cracks,
Spread slowly
At first,
Fine lines on a
Smooth surface;
Creeping across a
Marble plain,
Barely making
A sound, but
Marking - scarring
- All the same.
See here, where

The peace the nations had promised
Some days that were gold
Now all fade into stardust
Disappearing with the old

Yet the Earth shock beneath them
Then the final warning rung
They whom nature condemned
Lost their wings because of the sun

It’s a long way home,

miles of pavement and sky.

As we drive,

the sun chases us,

and the clock turns.

Radio changes,

melodies blur together,

making one endless song,

duets and duets of notes.

Heat hugs your skin,

The Ponderosa Pines hunched ponderously,
Their convoluted gestures frozen
With dry, rasping limbs in stages of vexation
And narrow forearms lifted high
In savored moments of exalted epiphany.
My brother and I climbed the questions
They grew,

Although I have never been,

I can smell the condensed aroma

of fresh bread in the bakery,

occupying its place in the noses of bypassers.

Although I have never been,

I can distinguish between the flavor

of black and green olives,

The twisted metal trees
Rise up from the heap
Magpies hop about
The glittering savannah
And crows harass the mice
Nesting in the chewed
Leather seat
Of a Volkswagen
A scruffy dog
Stalks the crows
His paws padding softly across

Since the first breath of life,
one adventure to the next,
I can only reflect back in fondness
to the scattered pieces of my heart.

The light tapping of rain, loud at first, but slowly becoming weaker and weaker, grabs me; takes hold. I open the squeaky front door and peek a single foot outside. The vivid green grass begs for me to be a companion while it slowly moves in the ever-slightest of winds. So I walk...

I am a tree
tall and skinny
my roots run deep
and my leaves are big,
and grow up high.
Nearby are my family trees,
from which my seed came.
A bit further are my friends
of all shapes kinds and sizes.
My bark may be rough

I couldn’t see the ocean, I couldn’t see the waves.
I didn’t even know there were waves.
Just a blue blur, like paint splattered on a blank canvas
Tripping over nothing,
Catching something that wasn’t there
A trick of the mind it was.

Down the winding path I stroll, through woods dark
And deep, where mystery and magic roam.
A swift stream runs here; high above, a lark
Sings sweet and clear, in a voice that calls “home.”
Onwards, a low growl comes from some deep cave

there was a river/in the black hills/that my favorite trail followed/with pine trees lining
its banks/of hard ground and towering rocks//i would beg my father/to walk that trail/
as far as it went/as many days as i could//and as we walked he would/recite poems from

It’s been five days,
But more than five days have been accomplished
It doesn’t feel like years have past,
Only that the beginning seems like years ago
It’s time to leave, to another world
But the world we leave will never leave us

It was a scorchingly hot summer day in June when I walked up toward the house from the barn, heading toward the old cedar tree near the house. The tree had bird feeders hanging on it, and probably I was going to check the feeders to see how much seed they had in them.

Have you seen her? You must have seen her,
she’s one of the trees, with all the rain
that she can bear:

Eye color? Colorado green.
Hair color? The evening sun.
Don’t mistake her voice
for the hidden opal stream.

I wake early before the birds are stirring
Loading the car with all the supplies
Long drive in the dark with the tires whirling
I get to the land before sunrise

The rain is immediate, and collects in every pore like blood clots. 
For this moment, coiled small, a child’s figure shaking sleep —
I move. Pulsing water smudges the dented car hood
three blocks down, and there is a caution to both of our actions.