August 23rd, 2026
En Pensée
To arrive in thought
like a note I never heard begin…
Each measure lifting
into the next;
the small, impossible jeté
of ink across a page.
Nature
leaves
gently sway with the morning’s
stir
like the gentle rustle
of my sheets
awakening as I do
they catch
—and catch me
rest, rise
rise, rest
nature
is a bed called home
|—————————|
February 14th, 2022
I Wrote Time a Letter
I wrote Time a letter.
“Slow down?” was all I asked.
When “Why?” was all she posted,
I wrote to her the facts:
“I want to live there,
In the sight of his sweet eyes.
A duration long and fair,
Time frequently denies.
In his feeling,
I see where wave meets shore.
A sight and sound all too healing…
Time moves me and ignores.
Time: my letter.
I posted you the facts,
It is an urgent matter.
Please, write me back?”
‘If I slow down,” Time wrote,
“Dreaming will be your estate.
Living there,” she noted,
“This sight for you won’t wait.
Do this favor:
Live as you are.
Be his heart’s good neighbor.
Time will lend the sugar.”