Poetry is the language
Of the ancient and
Children minds free to
Wander dream and think
Poetry confuses those middle
Minds taught to follow
For poetry never explains
But simply quietly suggests
Where you might go
Category: Affection
Recognize
What I need now
More than anything else
Is the time to
Settle in for winter
And wait for spring
This is what happens
When love freezes over
And waits for someone
Else to warm it
With wink or nod
Or even a hello
Like a daffodil recognized
Amidst the winter’s garden
Sex
Sex is sex
Sex as verbs
Not as nouns
Casual sex or
Hookup sex seems
To be centered
Around a destination
Sometimes you get
There together and
Sometimes one of
You is delayed
But love making
Love making is
An adventure a
Journey where delays
And cancelations cause
Side trips and
Day trips and
All other kinds
Of playful exploration
To me there’s
Nothing worse than
Simply getting somewhere
When the getting
Somewhere is usually
The best part
Maybeland
What is possible
Is almost always
Certainly never probable
That is what
Dreams are for
They carry us
Beyond the real
Beyond the now
Into a place
Called simply maybe
It is there
In that place
Let me live
There in maybeland
Where the possible
Becomes the probable
JustBookendsWe
At first I
Thought that we
We were just
Two knickknacks collected
On a whim
Just things from
Somewhere else placed
Here to remember
A bygone time
Obviously different yet
Strikingly similar we
Hold a place
One of memory
Until today when
Hands repositioned us
You over there
And me here
Closer than before
Complimenting each other
As we hold
The world between
Us as bookends
