It’s funny when people 
look at you they
look at you like 
a book jacket something 
catches their eye about 
you making them wonder 
are you summer beach
book material maybe comfy
cozy chair fireplace material 
or maybe even nightstand 
beddy bye time material 
but material you surely 
are an adventure a
journey a reason sometimes 
though infrequently a solution 
always always something sometimes 

When I don’t 
then I must 
like elephants which 
shake the trees
making fruit fall 
I too must
shake the trees 
of convention making 
other fruit fall 
for a harvest 
never relies on
the fruit but 
only on labor 

It’s been long 
too long maybe 
since I have 
so have I 
had to alone 
this forced change 
like early season 
bulbs bursting forth 
long before natural 
to give show 
before all else 
has given way 
to a knowing
and a discovery 
of what pleasure 
one can bring 
to ones self 

The city sleeps 
the mountains too
giants on side
end to end 
like a caravan 
of rolling rock 
they sleep soundly 
out there beyond 
past the lights 
looming gloomily until 
the early morning 
when the sun 
from back east 
breaks past prairie 
and washes them 
like the smiling 
hands of nana 

Sleeping there faraway 
I do suppose 
similar to here
when you sleep 
far away then 
too in dreams 
of somewhere else 
and I wonder 
then am I
there with you 
or are you 
with someone else 
I don’t know 
but you do 
then you awaken 
from your dream 
and into ours
there here too