Between me
and window
floats dust
unseen by
my eyes 
except for 
when sun
slips between 
wall and 
blinds making 
me think 
that this 
is what 
a glass 
sees when 
champagne sparkles 
about inside 

Oh if only 
my words could 
float about the 
room with the 
same loft as
the melodic feathers
of Chopin I’d
be known for 
keeping souls warm 
and hearts happy 

Comfort comes 
in quiet
in having 
not had
the past
like sun
now behind 
the clouds 
rarely warms 

I wonder why 
we ignore feet
except for those 
who have a 
thing for them 
maybe they make 
up the slack 
back to feet
down there doing 
their jobs a
pair of flippers
and skates holding 
us up like 
a great foundation 
all but forgotten 
those dogs are 
until they can’t 
then come the 
wishes of just 
one more dance 
one more walk 
around the promenade 
one more feeling 
of wet grass 

Rough seas
of sleep 
tossed about 
my boat
sails of
my uncertainty 
caught a
gusty gale 
sheets of
rain shrouded 
and I
a guest
in bed
held on
for morning