eyes desperate
her frantic fingers
comb through her bag
from top to bottom
that fleeting glimpse of her
on the street
is still telling to me
her loss
of having
the certainty
that may no longer be
as they say
in the bag
Month: October 2018
When the Story
I tell myself
to be myself
in fall fails
to catch fire
leaves me cold
in winter
refuses to green
in spring
plods
when summer plays
it is time
to change
my story
Awesome
to imagine
there is
in me
the authority
the courage
the downright
in your face
guts
to forgive
Time
is
a knife
cutting
through
water
Conscious
to know
is
to know
with
Nine Pennies
I lift them
from the road
hold them even as
they hold me
for my thoughts
they question me
in the economy
between us
it is enough
to pay
attention
Search Engine
swallow
fire
become
engine
not
metal
Leave
it makes sense
leave the past
open
the future
free
stay with
this jazz
of blood
this being
child
Being
a present
to present
in the present
Window Dew Dawn
Through my bedroom window
this dawn
to me
came
I
still
I
bow