Laying here 
listening to 
home sounds 
the fridge’s 
ancient moans
and water
running somewhere 
making ice 
and knocks
of air 
that wind
through ducts 
amid tone
deaf hums
of cars
on concrete 
and then 
it stops 
and then 
it starts 
over again 

It’s a quiet 
kind of day
where sheets brush
and then hush
as happiness is 
found tucked between 
where you and 
I whisper stories 
of grand adventures 
as fingers linger 
and kisses come 
stay here mystery
a while longer 
as winds stronger
start to blow 

Modest and grateful 
I count blessings 
they don’t blame 
but remind me 
what I have 
and never need 
or ever want 
to take stock 
takes away concern 
for grace comes 
to favored souls 

Having spent years 
no not wasted
invested and saved 
I then spent 
and I squandered 
squeezing and wringing 
out what’s left 
and finally lost 
in the losing 
and it’s loss
I found something 
that I’d forgotten 
a little locket
tucked away under 
and behind beneath 
and inside me 

I have tried 
to be my
own eraser rubbing 
out the mistakes 
of my past 
with such verve 
as to tear
the very paper 
upon which I
wrote my answers 
now I sit
content knowing that 
I did my
best and accept 
that whatever grade
I do get 
is given by 
those self assigned 
as my teachers