maybe

maybe you thought,
that friendships don’t last.
people are fickle,
and feelings fade fast.
maybe you thought
that friends are unreal,
they hurt you and broke you,
and now you can’t feel.
maybe it’s true,
all these and much more,
but friends are just people,
imperfect, unsure.
maybe someday,
we’ll all understand;
for now they’re just human,
so please don’t demand.

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pink

i have never thought of pink
as more than a joke,
an attention-grabber, for laughs,
and dawns were more
a study of magnificence
than a study of colors,
each one screaming to be praised,
among them pink;
but now,
now i cannot look at sunrises
without a longing loss,
without you,
and pink,
hand in hand,
always in my mind….

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steps

somewhere in the dreams of once upon a child,
there where i saw you first, white lace flowing,
endless trailers of silk snowy soft and smooth,
pearls in your wrists and fingers and bodice and neck,
how you smiled beatifically, sure of yourself,
and i, arrayed in armor, knelt in love and awe,
never flinching as i took your hand to [...]

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that which you are

that which you are,
now,
is with him,
and i,
i seethe,
in silence,
i turn green,
and yellow,
i pine
for lost leaves of summer,
now brown,
crunching underfoot,
for lost sunsets,
now that only starless nights remain;
for written verses
never sung to you,
whose music you were;
for melodies unheard
we could have sung together;
for love;
for us;
no longer,
no more,
and thus,
for lost leaves of summer,
i pine,
in shades of yellow,
and swirls of [...]

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dawn

The dawnbreak brings with it
The scent of promise,
And opening the drapes,
The pink horizon
Begins to blue and yellow,
And the peaks and the plains,
Put on their browns and greens,
And their beads of silver prisms,
Rainbowing the grass in silence.
The opening of windows bring
The caress of sessery,
Heightening the senses
To the beauty
Taken for granted for too long,
And memories flood the [...]

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child of heaven

you still wear the wings you had
in that premortal life,
how you managed to bring them here
i’ll never fathom, always admire;
perhaps it is your way
of reminding me
of that anteterrestrial mansion above,
as you smile and sing and float about
like a memory of light,
and trail fragrance and laughters,
how keening, how sharp,
these cloaks of hope you drape
upon my shoulders,
as [...]

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Rhodora Rewrought

December’s fingers held me by the hand,
To lead me through the woods of summer’s death,
And there beheld what months ago held breath;
I stood, a witness of that reprimand.
The mist that hugged the earth assailed the eyes,
The wet and mulching leaves beneath one’s feet
Made the skin crawl with dread that yelled retreat,
Yet depthless silence held me [...]

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