words escape

words escape me
in rushes and rivers
swim away on
silver currents

blink
and they are gone

In the desert

The car sat at the 
side of the road, 
both doors open, 
nobody in sight. 
Only the cacti standing by 
and they 
aren’t talking.

when kids grow up

when kids are small they
need us
to
tie their shoes
button their shirts
kiss their boo boos

when kids are small they
hug and kiss with abandon
adore and abhor with
equal aplomb

when kids grow up they
exceed us in size
know more than we
earn more than me

when kids grow up they
need us
to
celebrate their successes
stick with them through the messes
remind them that this too
good and bad
shall pass
but shan't be forgotten

the bridge

the goatheaded man turned his
yellow eyes
on me
horns slicked back,
a calcified comb-over


I could see his question growing
a trick to keep me here

he expected me to cower but
instead
i stepped forward and pulled a
quarter from his ear
then a bouquet from my sleeve

my hat bore a white rabbit which
hopped across the bridge

mesmerized, he could do nothing
but watch me leave

Balancing

I sit down to balance my checkbook but
I'm distracted by
sunshine and
birds and
children and
words floating in from
the radio.

waiting for a spark

the winter has been long and dark
a lifetime of seclusion
moving glacier slow
yet so much faster than my thoughts

near-shadows crawl across the wall
mere gradients of gray
since there is no light

i sit, frozen,
waiting for a spark

The Poet

The poet opens his mouth
and words bloom.
Images dance off
his tongue
and plant themselves
in my imagination,
take me to places that
failed to exist
before,
where grace and grit
live side by side
and ideas grow.