Bookends be
this dawn 
and dusk
and we
just thee
and me
make up 
the middle 
on we
go to
and fro
patiently waiting 
on another 

The burden of loneliness 
is a heavy one 
but the baggage frequently 
found upon the shoulders 
of once been and
now no longer lovers
is enough to cripple 
or at least cramp 
even the strongest backs
so when you see
someone with slow feet 
be kind for you 
most likely never know 
the lives they carry
here there and everywhere 

I keep 
my past
privately private 
hidden away 
behind passwords 
and handshakes 
known by
few those 
who too
committed crimes 
us fugitives 
of yesterday 

This quiet this
kind of time 
when I alone 
seep and steep
seeing and seemingly 
stewing far away 
though very near 
to you you
know and ask 
where’d you go 
knowing where there
you can’t come 
but curious you 
are nonetheless knowing 
too that such
a place offers 
no postcards of
which to send
just me when 
I come back 

Looking now upon
my barren field 
all rocks roots
and stumps gone 
I stand wondering 
what to plant 
and if to
ever plant again 
ocean of soil 
which ebbs nowhere 
if left untouched 
will be consumed 
like a blackboard 
begging for chalk
one makes another 
what it is