Just how long
is one’s forever
when so much
ever has already
and what can
one even promise
that hasn’t already
been proven just
how many more
of the what’s
and when’s remain
do we make
things anew or
do we use
an eraser and
desperately try to
rub out mistakes
in order to
change the answers
Early
Too early to
wait I will
just for what
I don’t know
maybe a sign
signal or sound
a beep bleep
a light touch
or heavy thump
of some lump
coming to life
Dreams
Dreams don’t happen
they sprout and
spread and bloom
once gained their
blossoms are gathered
into beautiful bouquets
tied with ribbons
given to others
but first seed
a wish for
that and then
Atop
Deep sigh
don’t know
if it
is boredom
or relief
like walking
on top
a fence
one wrong
move and
fate will
become destiny
Sunday
Cloudy sky
mutes sun
daybreak whispers
through the
hazy whiskers
of damp
gray dark
Sunday morning
nothing tempts
or beckons
besides blankets
and pillows
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 