It is
funny this
that bird
which for
so long
I’d wished
to keep
has returned
ready to
be caged
but now
I no
longer want
knowing that
a captured
bird never
sings songs
of beauty
Category: Bean
Him
I miss him
the him him
not the he
or the his
but the him
not the he
who he was
or the his
that he had
but the him
the him him
that one him
that will forever
be with me
Photograph
A simple photograph
haunts me now
of some forgotten
man it whispers
here I am
like a cricket
he is calling
come find me
like a squeak
I look everywhere
and under everything
I try closets
pushing away coats
and beneath stairs
no one’s there
does he exist
certain he does
dropping into chair
I trace fingers
across the photograph
my fingers remember
that which my
mind now cannot
MissMaybe
I miss them all
each one of them
and at night now
I sit in darkness
wondering
I sit in darkness
wondering
when maybe and if
maybe I’ll see another
maybe
I sit in darkness
wondering when maybe where
maybe and if maybe
I will ever stop
missing them like this
wondering
maybe
SometimeIsNowTime
And sometimes love isn’t
enough and sometimes love
is too much and
sometimes love is just
enough and sometimes love
is just sometimes love
I can’t separate my
passion from my love
nor my love from
my passion just like
you can’t separate the
heat from the sun
from the clouds that
produce rain or the
cold that turns summer
into fall sometimes some
things can’t be one
thing without being another
which is why my
dear Bean it’s best
for both of us
to be absolutely nothing
now to each other
for being absolutely nothing
is always going to
be easier than something
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 