one more ~

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Had I more
than one more day
and one more spring to bloom
– a perfume born
of every sweet goodbye
Had I feet for walking back
home another way –
truth to be remembered
love beyond my life

Had I more
than one more heart
one wish to grant the stars
– and time to choose
before my time was gone –
Would lie beneath
the oldest oak
to hear his stories told
and dream within the comfort
of his arms

mirrors ~

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give me to blue jeans
jasper and jasmine
tiny white pearls weaved into thread –
storied collection
of people and places
someone I miss
was somebody said

of boys and their business
pretention of men
and swore they could be
what they were in my eyes
angels (and demons)
traded a lifetime
of moments
and secrets
and sighs

breathe of the pages
the sweet smell of paper
rhyme
where there never was rhyme
flight resurrected
from limestone and sparrow
was heaven made whole –
these pieces of time

forgiven myself
for acts of transgression
felt something more
than the warm rise of breath
old silver coins
float in the fountain –
eternity more
than a strange
little death

spare me to words
gifts of forever –
are written to places
of cotton and steel
get me to home
while the crops are still standing
let me down easy
the stories are real

none to blame ~

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daylight spills
as fallen peaches
summer shades
seem muted now
wrapped in sleeves
of moss and denim
dreamed me back
this way
somehow

been a while
since last I saw you
someone said
you weren’t the same
who can ever know of freedoms –
moments passed
tho none to blame

brittle branches
bent for dragging
tempted not this time to go
back into the trust
forgotten –
western skies
are clouded so

goodbye sits
in favored places
tempted by the dawn to rise
one more spring of everlasting
sworn to picture –
close my eyes

echoes
left by Sunday morning –
gloves to hide
these signs of age
lost the will
for understanding –
else the dreamer
dream always

dandelions ~

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of autumn grain
and counted sheets –
lines where lines aren’t buried
and roads to stretch between
the who we were

stories told
I hear them still
and wonder to their lessons –
fairytales rewritten
by the wise

of yesterdays
to put away –
folded soft and sorted
laid upon the shelf
and three feet high

surely none
will find it there
amid the joy and sorrows
flour sacks
and candles almost gone

seasons melted
somewhere else –
and not for I the changing
would break the bed
or take the curtains down

rake the pines
of all they knew
before the frost was tempted
to give of leave
my everything
so true

slow the breeze
beneath the chimes
skirt of april showers –
where dandelions
lie of each embrace

calamine
and turned away
before the window opened
to call my name –
where echoes
I remain

fourteen stones ~

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other times
of those I knew
much more (than I could see)
how swift the words
to take me by surprise
(wished for more)
than one last time
could never hold my reason
fell to places
just beyond (your eyes)

tangerine and jasper suns
muscadine and paper
was more (to me) for knowing
a safer side of truth
without a plan to understand
when told of ancient places
ribbons now (the color
of my shoes)

loving roads
and fourteen stones
between the house and heaven
rows and rhyme
to screen doors shut (behind)
mysteries of make believe
who are you (I wonder)
took the road for leaving
with something (still)
to find

morning shakes
as living takes
a sunrise (more than needed)
to lie against the night
and count my scars
once or twice the coming round
my wilderness to wander
slept beneath (the window
talking with) the stars

secrets spared
the room to share
and some things can’t be given
e’er presence
give us lives (to comprehend)
mourning doves confess to love
and wait the night another
as quiet stills the twilight
with knowing you
(again)

dearest ~

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fertile now
these cotton fields
endless rows of waiting –
sometimes the stars
sit low within her legs
counting back with disbelief
nights before
the harvest –
barns already empty
apron worn to rags

frigid halls
and ice cold floors
chatter of the aged
men to speak of women
down the way –
dreamers sleep in twisted knots
whispers of another
and what became of heroes
blue and grey

dearest thought of
morning strolls –
rusted nails and ribbon
boxes rift with hats we never wore
stretch the line
from post to porch
mark the miles for minding
carve our days
and make of love
our chore

renew the vow
of infamy –
seven more than sisters
held to certain fortune
I remain
silver spoons
and let my lesson
keep me from returning –
dared by demons
watching now
to know the way
I came

exposure ~

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in the mist
that was my yesterdays
ten thousand silent birds
– beyond my will to hear
are singing now
but for the night
of wing’ed flight
to worlds beyond my birth
was never meant
a path to me somehow

speckled green
and tattered blues
patchwork bursts of reason
stitched with time
but worn the rest away
hung to line
the veil between
here I am and ever
– someone speaks
and I don’t know their name

shutter speed
as autumn peaks
to fall beneath the cedars
climbing up
to make my bed beyond
little lights
to prick my skin
– who am I to tell
when left outside the gate
a moment long

pressed into
the winter wheat
smelled of other courage
and where our
dreams have gone –
I couldn’t say
leaving takes the
longest time
when all the crops come in
– the mist is rising slowly
to melt my fears
away

split apart ~

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rob the cradle
now to sound
of lullabies unspoken
forgiven to the dusk –
I know your light

slipped as felt
beneath the sheets
truth I should have noted
was pressed into my pillow
by release

guard these long
forsaken dreams –
kisses without memory
of where we’ll be tomorrow
split apart

darn my socks
and stir my soup –
bring my coffee morning
and I shall write a poem
to your face

slowly
with the ink of trust
pages to consider
as shadows falling backward
to the dark

reflection ~

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in a moment come
such singular respect
to endless possible
promise
and quietly
swelled up hope
suffice to stretch
the ring and still
the questions asked

bitter as the poison tongue
tired (again) of tasting
anoint me with something new
as rare as I
in anticipation
of one more forever
a sun almost risen

leaning beyond
this chasm
of familiar unfamiliar
and thought not far to leaving
for the air hangs still
with hello
and supper not yet cold

prayers ~

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in the space
beyond my vision –
where the edge of night is pried
from places just beneath
the wet down world
as quiet weaves
I sit as one –
an almost ended light
close my eyes
and hear their tender
prayers –

embarassment of beetles
for the cricket
knew their shame
tho sworn to keep a secret
of the dark –
needles working endless
to make for us a shawl
would hide the night
and shade the face
of day

flickers of surrender
wings were beating blind –
denied the fault of others
fell before
as embers to the smoke
reflections of the lake
spinning top
is burdened now
with lace

while just beyond
my breathing
green her blue goodbye
as moonlight gives
my hiding place away
love remembers where I stood
beneath a winter veil –
smelled of pine
and spoke to me
by name