Morning clouds hang
like long overcoats 
tucked deep within 
a cedar closet 
and beneath which 
I quietly hide
smelling stale perfume 
and cigarette smoke 
plump with promise 
of parties and 
precipitation these coat
clouds wait patiently 
for their turn 

To say that 
I lost would 
be true but 
I have learned 
that even loss
brings with it
its own win
for with loss 
frequently comes start
for no loss 
is ever easy 
nor is end

I shall dip
my toes in
but I will 
no longer bathe
in this thing 
commonly called life 
I have sat
at its table 
had my fill
and I’m done 
me I’d rather 
sit under my
tree and snack
from a basket 
of music and 
poetry and dream 
for its in
these simple things 
of my heart 
I am satisfied 

I will 
have until 
I have 
no more 
and then 
I will 
wish for 
remember I
will never 
and settle 
I will 
even less

I too dip
like a ladle 
into an empty 
bucket hoping for 
water finding none 
and my thirst
unquenched remains relief
never really known 
and whilst I 
try to go
about my business 
all I ever 
think is water 
until I do 
and it is 
and I can 
at last sip