I am now 
left to think 
not really remember 
for most memories 
are but anchors
keeping me in
one specific place 
though the illusion 
of movement there
but just round
and round I
go never moving 
beyond this spot 
but thinking well 
thinking is like 
a kite soaring 
and eventually freed
and to land 
somewhere else entirely 

Do you hear
the crickets call
and see the 
fireflies dance their 
little tails aglow 
blinking like the 
end of your 
cigarette a few 
feet from me 
such is magic 
in the making 
on these the
last summer nights 

Sometimes there is 
nothing to say 
so this morning 
let’s just you 
and I and 
this pot and 
these cups just 
sit here and 
watch in silence 
as both steam
and sun rise 

Now standing 
at the 
shore between 
order and 
chaos I
may dip 
my toes 
carefully into 
the shallows 
of what 
many know 
as life 
but will 
never swim 
preferring rather 
the prairie 
of peace 

I prefer waving 
from afar rather 
than joining the 
parade sitting here 
under the maple 
and wishing well
sipping on a 
cool cocktail of 
peace and calm 
let others march
to the drums 
of some cause 
me I will 
sit under shade
sip and cheer 
knowing that they
like I once 
had marched nowhere 
until I took 
a turn here