When I’m done
Writing I am
Done living it
Is that simple
Category: Creativity
OnlyToMe
It’s like caring
Fingers dancing across
My ribs making
Me giggle like
A bouquet of
Spring daisies found
On my doorstep
Sometimes it’s like
A horse at
Full gallop sweating
And sometimes it’s
Like that first
Late November snowfall
As we gather
For the holidays
Sometimes it’s like
That yet sometimes
It’s the dripping
Eaves after rain
Or a warm
Towel after shower
Or sometimes it’s
Just your voice
Whispering in my
Ear those three
Delicately simple words
That you say
Only to me
LowTideLove
And then just
As the line
Went dead an
Envelope glided in
The mail slot
Inside you said
The things that
You couldn’t before
Sitting on floor
The now damp
Letter bled as
I did reading
The words goodbye
Now silence in
Worlds of memories
Like low tide
Love is subtle
PostcardMen
My life’s men
Have become like
A series of
Postcards of places
Past filed in
A box called
My heart hidden
In the basement
Of my mind
Sought only when
I’m no longer
Being an explorer
I open it
And look at
Them remembering Curitiba
Or Andes or
Denver or Paris
They each bring
With them memories
Of the mountains
Of shoulders the
Slopes of throats
The bellied pastures
And eyed lakes
Men that have
Been long ago
NewWorld
Like a ghostly
Ship far out
To sea you
Appeared to me
Approaching and finally
Mooring just off
My coast your
Hands moved towards
Me like a jetty
Filled with conquistadors
As you lowered
Your main sail
And laid it
On the floor
Next to bed
Setting anchor you
Decided to stay
And explore me
Your new world
