Sunday, August 28, 2016

Here in the northeast
I ascribe different origins
To the feelings and emotions I have.

Were it
Could I
Would we?

Leave me under the pleasing
Crook of the stairs
That lead to your room

And tender moods settle
With gentle mind
And a simple dinner made well.

Back nestled together
On cushions next to
Lamps and cradling emptied mugs.

Gingerly listening to friends
Turning in and closing
Bedroom doors for the night.


Wednesday, April 20, 2016

The first thirty minutes of April 21st, 2016

Weird how it passes,
The nights and the mornings,
Ripple beneath my conscience.

I assume I want it to last,
But aren't I hoping it brings
Something that hasn't come yet?

I continue to look and examine,
My hands, still here resting,
They're a little shakier these days.

But I remember judging
And knowing even in my teens,
That I could never be a surgeon.

Luckily I instead work in cafes,
Late in the night drinking

Coffee and smiling at the staff.