one day

It’s odd, how so much can happen in a day.

It’s sad and almost surreal, really.  You can spend so much time

waiting, and healing.  Then one day, it’s over.

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Something that develops over time.

Neither one asks for it.

It’s something that develops over time.

Neither asks questions, either

when honesty is speaking.

your dying

Did you burn yourself out

like a flame wick under wax?

Or were you just here for the holiday?

Is that why you smelled vanilla?

I don’t have a match that’s long enough

to strike you from this far,

with another year upon us.

I just kind of smelled your dying.

Garbage

One man’s trash
is another man’s trouble

so pick up your trash man
unless the other man’s a trashman

and at least he gets paid
to deal with your garbage.

a caged dove

Not all the people
you need, can stay
in your life for keeps
they too have places to be
thay can’t always, always be
it gets easier to juggle
some days, others
it’s impossible, until
you’re able to see
that need was never meant to be
your burden, so it’s yours to release
if and when you can
like a caged dove
whose only wish it is to fly
into that holy land.

Daylight Savings Time

I wake up
to find
that time
has taken
yet another hour
and flushed it down
the toilet bowl
of my soiled mind.

They call it
Daylight Savings Time.

But I wonder
if I
could take back
that erased hour
and place it in my pocket,
with all the other shit
I’ve saved — little secrets
I’m unwilling to admit.

Could they work together
to create, a fiction
to explain
your love, my love, our love(s) erased,
replaced in picture frame.
And throw them up, unrecognized
into the evening sky.

Where there is loss, there too is light
like Daylight Savings Time.

The Craft

Tears well
followed by
a deep breath,
sadness
is a fine art,
and I’m still
after all these years
developing the craft.