Landing

The lights
Turned off and on
By branches.

And then.

So small
In the window
He blinks one
To many times.
And wakes
On a final
Winter's day.

The confines of my cell -
Entrapment,
Protecting me from the unknown.

Analogy

Splenda : Sugar
As
Push-up bra : Breasts

People

There are moments
When people turn away
And stare into the dark
And for a moment
Seem as they are.
Real, different, true.

A Part

The issue of commitment
Is more about escape
Than love.

Option

It seems there are only two options.
Should we be racehorses or
Show dogs?

Bush

When you watch bush
It seems he is a boy
Pretending to be president.

What If

What if all will be well?

Januaries'

Januaries' hope?
Or threshold step
Before the cliff?

Januaries dire
And resolute
And new but old.

Januaries: disappointment
For the disappointed.
Hope
For the hopeful.

Januaries' Decembers.
Decembers' Januaries.

What victims we are
To meaning.

He starts

I will not climb a cliff
Nor jump from a plane
Or fight.

But would I?
For the breath
That reminds me
To remember.

Above

She woke in fits
At late hours
To write words
That he read months
Later.

A smile with angles
At the edges
That spoke of mercy
And faith
And love.

Above.

Salvation

Do we write for relief
Or to slice open old scars?

Is it to celebrate love
Or to imbibe loss?

Do we vent to eulogize the living demons,
With hope that they will bury themselves?

The soul shrinks and
Claws at the side of a cliff
With the hope for one thing:

Salvation.