No they don’t 
some may do
but most doubt 
across from me 
cautious and uncertain 
like offering cream 
and some sugar 
having had neither 
they stare frightened 
it’s just intelligence 
I say nothing 
else just my
way of thinking 
fine I’ll try 
you can always 
throw me out 
if you find 
me too sweet 
and start over 
such is this 
thing called dating 
in the age 
of bliss ignorance 

People it seems 
are miserable hunkering 
down in place
or moving about 
lost and unaware 
looking and looking 
for any shred
of what they 
once recognized as
hope finding none 
finding little just
scraps and crumbs 
of what’s left 
barely enough to 
light much less 
warm they huddle 
against the backdrop 
of despair cowering 
and wondering when
the winds of 
change will shift 
removing the clouds 
of this bleached 
bleakness and return
the blanketing warmth 
of summer’s sun 

From morning window 
I see candies
high up above 
swirls of sugar 
rosy and pink
a confectionery delight 
and blueberry ice
in the middle 
ever so slowly 
dripping and drifting 
into the white
chocolate clouds of 
cones here at
soda fountain mountain 

Tree lights 
bounce off
of windows 
like candles 
that too
disappear into 
the darkness 
of winter 
wood and 
the glee
of ornaments
and snowy
boughs alike 
whisper if
only this 
was mine 

When all is
and none without 
does one ever 
or only remember 
there’s pain there
beneath the surface 
is it better 
to just watch 
the memories swim
by like fish
beneath the ice 
or to catch 
them on hook
me I think 
it’s best to 
let them swim