White towels I
chose for you 
black for me 
I want to 
see the stain
of you on
something other than 
my broken heart 

Crooked picture
in frame 
set out
and ignored
always overlooked 
dog whose
head tilts 
stare I
still do 
and wonder 
when the 
memories of 
you turned 
from perfect 
to this 

Oh that first 
sip be it
beer or brew
hits every time 
like the crack 
of ball on
bat sending it
upwards and beyond 
be it cold 
or be it 
hot that first 
sip of anything 
including your lips 
is just enough 
to get me 
here to there

So very little 
life is now
having been placed 
so long ago 
on back burners 
set to reduce 
a pungent thick 
stock bursting flavor 
funny how age
turns into wisdom 
when kept alone 
put on simmer 
no more boil
of younger years 
just a slow 
steady constant flame 
like a candle 
in the window 

I know exactly 
where everything is 
where it goes 
when it’s done 
doing its thing 
where to find 
it how to 
use it and 
keep it safe 
be this object 
utensil or person 
I know where
you always belong 
just there a
tad out of 
reach just far
enough away to 
make me want 
to find you