Home

we rode the ferry
you and I

chunks of bread
you fed the gulls
who stopped mid flight
bowed their heads to you
or so it seemed
before snatching the bread
from the treasures of your hands

wiping your hands clean upon your jeans
you laughed,
such simple things—
the wiping of your hands and your laugh

it was then we turned
to watch dolphins
arch their backs
surfacing for air
in the gulf waters

And a wish to cherish you
came to mind
treasuring the word
my heart sings
when in your arms—
home.

Saw Dust

Excuse me, please
While I sweep these words
From the floor like the saw dust they are
And toss them to the wind
To scatter in their ineffectiveness.

For nothing can be made
From such dust as this
No table, no chair
No house,
No tower, no bridge

They have no substance
To support any weight
Let them drift on the winds,
Return to earth as if sifted through,
Inconsequential as they are
Hidden in some tall, overgrown weeds
Somewhere out of sight
To rot in some organic way
Providing nutrients for soil.

Coldness of the Days

The coldness of the days between
Measured by degrees
Equaled by the miles
Separating desires
One from the other
With the freezing of the hours
Marking time and distance
Comes the ache of body and heart
Between the leaving and reuniting
To wake in a landscape filled with you
And the world I see within your blue eyes
Rather than a barren bed
Would warm and soothe
The ache of body and heart

At Sunrise Over Water

At sunrise over water
Remembering a dream
Within tears
Things neither given
Nor ever felt
Linked by all the fears
To form decades of a life
Lived like a stranger
In my own skin

I have stood
Since dawn
At this ocean’s edge
Waiting, waiting
To hear something of a siren’s song
And now at noon
The rain begins
Fierce pelting blows
Washing me clean
Of all I know
Or dare to dream

And I will know no song
For living continues
As a stranger
Within my own skin

(Provincetown 2015)