A far off
whistle moans deeply 
caught in the 
trap of tracks 
forward and backward 
is all it
can do lamenting 
all the way 
why can’t I
just be free 
to go somewhere 
sideways just once 
but no go
I must for
what’s behind me 
like my past
never knew better 

Brown curtain 
white blind
and beyond 
city begins 
to stir
I can
hear it
tires of
distant cars 
pick up 
their pace 
more of
them more 
than some 
like kisses
of lovers
whose passion 
slowly swells 

Laying in dark 
one lamp on
a salt crystal 
glows in corner 
talking to myself 
telling of dreams 
of last night’s 
sleep and wondering 
making no sense 
such are dreams 
only of darkness 
for those of 
day always entertain 

A milky film
has gathered its 
edges sticking to
the horizons rim
and everything farther 
than near farther 
than far away 
disappears even things
near do too
not in fog
but a haze
as though this 
mountain city can’t 
take a breath 
but just pants
the dry heat 
of late summer 
before fall applies 
its cold compress 
bringing everything down 

Piece by piece 
and little bits 
everything in time 
just have patience 
life frequently waits
for dreams too
one runs ahead
always the first 
while the other 
takes its time 
relishing and pausing 
just a while 
but once together 
happily agree now 
wasn’t that fun