I moved from where
I was to where
I am for only
one thing to be
near my best friend
Weād met many decades
before when just boys
but even then we
knew the strength of
the string that connects
the kite to ground
it may be long
and may fly high
may get tangled and
may even get lost
but always comes home
eventually to fly again
Category: Friendship
Later
What to write
what to write
when thereās nothing
left to say
when nothing inspires
me sitting here
finally admitting my
lack of passion
I stumble back
into the bedroom
lift the covers
pulling you close
now the match
has been struck
igniting my flame
rats
if only my
typewriter could fit
in the bed
later my friends
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 oneās 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
Chill
Even arms
are beginning
to plump
going from
moist slickness
to wool
and hands
from fingers
to palms
two things
bring this
chill about
fall and
the thought
of losing
that love
thought had
BlamingSomeone
Itās now when
I often think
and frequently miss
someone being here
besides just me
Iām fun actually
but even I
grow weary of
my own company
and just wish
that the divots
on beds and
in chairs of
dirty coffee cups
and wet toothbrushes
of damp towels
and dull razors
belonged to someone
other than me
I blame me
for the way
things now are
I woefully miss
blaming someone else
