Not a peep 
nary a cluck
certainly no clue 
waiting just waiting 
like some first
time baker to 
witness their first 
loaf like a
wife whose husband 
shipped out to 
God knows where 
drumming my fingers 
pacing the floor 
wondering and worrying
what if just 
what if and 
what if when

We never end
we just pause
sigh take a 
deep breath do
something else get
distracted but finish 
no we never 
finish we just 
go and come 
like the seasons 
or the tide
not everybody can 
do this thing 
but in a 
hammock we met
and in a 
hammock we will
always forever be 

I have always wanted 
this a bed in
room with windows and 
two bed lamps flanking 
like torch bearers holding 
the light steady and 
its glow washing everything 
in pale yellow gold 
and a heavy comforter 
messy with heavy wrinkles 
like a map telling 
of last night’s storm 
oh and a door 
for doors are important
leading out leading in
to this place that 
I have always wanted 

I have wondered 
if percolate and 
simmer are same 
for both involve 
boil or does 
one come after 
the other reducing 
the first after 
the second’s added 
just like you 
added to me
makes us wee

I’m in love 
with a ghost 
oh no not 
a spirit for
he is flesh
just a ghost 
not a memory 
either for he
is here partially 
anyway a cat
or a hummingbird 
or a holiday 
that comes around 
every so often 
ghosts need love 
too I suppose 
for isn’t love 
at its essence 
something that haunts