There is one
Thing that every
Living thing does
At least once
And it’s not
The thing that
You’re thinking now
But perhaps it’s
The thing that
You’re doing now
It’s this smile
Category: Gay
SkinnyBranches
Way out here
Is the roost
Of few things
Namely angels and
Ideas and aviary
Simply because from
Here one does
One of two
Things take flight
Or fall flatly
Both are marvelous
Because it’s only
Here out on
The skinny branches
Can miracles happen
Wishing (to Bean)
Imagine being a
Fish that just
Took the bait
And is being
Reeled in while
Seeing an eagle
Over head and
Wishing if I
Must be caught
Why couldn’t it
Be up there
Soaring rather than
Way down here
In a boat
SundayMorn
The sky is
Filled with plump
Blimps tethered to
Trees by the
Dropped lines of
Falling silent rain
Above halos of
White sunshine hovers
Like deep stark
Snowdrifts on rooftops
Apt to fall
At the least
Shake of warmth
Above that days
Blue blemishes peek
Like curious children
Through the knotholes
Of weathered pine
As the deep
Rich aromatic brew
Wafts beside me
And silence silences
Every other thing
Wading
It is in
These wee cool
Hours before dawn
While I wade
In the shallows
Of my emotions
And feel the
Small fish and
Salamanders nip and
Brush against me
Tickling and dancing
Knowing they are
There simply by
Feeling them near
Isn’t that love
Curiosity and happenstance
And the chance
Of brief affection
Let those come
And touch you
