Sometimes when I’m
in one room
it’s hard for
me to imagine
I have another
beyond that doorway
a different place
filled with things
colorful comfy things
just like I
suppose I do
when touching you
surprised to find
parts of you
that right now
I’d forgotten about
Category: Poetry
Scribble
I a book
filled with lines
but not words
just odd shapes
black and white
oh so blank
and you crayons
all different colors
in toddlers hands
neither more or
less important to
the other really
just different in
a way that
makes the other
something it’s not
Freight
A train moans
deep in disbelief
far off unseen
its bleat calling
and causing alarm
I am coming
I can’t stop
like some change
to my life
that was set
into motion long
ago by decision
and finally announced
dark and mysterious
baggage hitched behind
Punchline
I remember you
like a punchline
I didn’t quite
get that took
me a back
not a punch
below the belt
like a bump
around a blind
corner causing me
to become befuddled
off my game
and there it
was that you
then saw me
as more me
than I’d ever
let anyone see
me the punchline
of your joke
Thunder
It isn’t grand
this this isn’t
nor was it
ever or even
meant to be
quiet surely for
such things are
but it’s in
the very nature
of silence do
we hear the
loudest of thunder
heralding the strongest
change out there
on the horizon
