Yesterday I witch
or maybe wizard
pulled things from 
cupboard and fridge 
set to cook
concoct and conjure 
a tad this
a pinch that
chop chop chop
toss and stir 
aromatics and herbs 
floating high above 
swirling like fairies 
and Pandora’s muses
until at last
ready to serve 
to creature and 
compadre and companion 
a beguiling feast
sure to soothe 
the savage beast 

The top half 
has gone dark 
after a blaze
of heated bright 
like fireworks exploded 
in nights sky
now the bottom 
half remains lit
in an old
and tired yellow 
I think I’m
going to leave 
it this way 
my Christmas tree 
looking a little 
like a town 
nestled under nightfall 

There are days 
such as this 
when words evade
and don’t express
just quiet thoughts 
going no where 
long road trips 
down straight highways 
empty of cars 

I wear scars
not as medals 
but as blemishes 
wee little pockmarks 
like the moon
whose face is 
riddled with impacts 
now seen imperfections 
which gives it 
character yes that’s 
me the moon
smiling despite the 
heavens best efforts 
to make ugly 

The things 
that matter
the most 
always return 
the things 
that appeared 
so are
the first 
to go