their song

Her feet rested on his, as he led his little girl in a slow dance across the wooden  floor. He hummed the tune as he always did, though she noticed his feet were slowing down, and from time to time, there was a a new pause in the melody.
And in one of those lulls, a silent pause in their song, she could almost touch the first memory she had of this dance, and her in his arms, and the smell of his shirt. And in that same brief pause, she feared the silence of his voice, the end of the song, losing their dance.
He picked up then where he had left off, and she clung a little tighter to his hand, and closed her eyes, willing herself to memorize this instant, and never ever let it go.



outstretched on the damp earth and soft spring grass
i am drowning in the cool air rising from the soil
and the realization that you
love me
and i have no greater desire
than to sink to even greater depths



Days like this I sit weak, my hands unsure and heavy. I am certain I am here for a reason, and all that surrounds me seems to attest that there is some essential goal I should even now be striving for. But I am still. Paralyzed by uncertainty. Watching myself for some hidden clue or sign that will reveal where to start, or where to end, or just where to go from here.

That's when you enter. Like a perfectly tuned harmony you begin to hand me one note at a time and I suddenly find the melody to my dissonance. Nearly effortlessly, I follow your lead and pieces begin to come together, even in my hands they take shape. And I am not afraid. And I am not alone.



She carried an umbrella over her shoulder, but not to catch the morning drizzle. Drops of the cool morning rain fell on her lips, her tongue, and her upturned face. Her bright rubber boots rising mid-calf seemed right at home beside the early tulips that edged the walk, dipping from the weight of the water now pooling in their colorful petals. Unaware of the puddles now growing beneath her feet. I realized she was not waiting for sun's rays, as she carried them within her heart.



sometimes i remember, Eastern Europe and it's gray skies
gray from rain and smog and years of communism
and sometimes i remember the gray
of cinder block buildings and the wall to wall windows
of my studio loft, pressed against the sky
so far from the street and miniscule people below
and i remember the gray of cobblestone street
and the shoes of peddlers and the sharp clang of
dishes echoing in an alley
as dusk covers us in  gray
I've been here before,
caught between the pale sky and dark liquid
filling my cup, my thoughts
with drops of the morning rain
and, courage to face the day



like fairy dust it covered the yard with a
sheen of brilliant gold, almost green
it caught in the afternoon sun
blanketing every surface
creating a sense of "other-world-ness"
until she sneezed, kicking up powdery clouds
and the magic was gone


remembering that honor
is not always found in trumpeted heralds
brisk salutes, or deep bows...
but rather in holding a door, a retort,
or by offering a hand or a seat



I never knew lonely
not until you came, and defined all the
spaces, and edges, and outlines of
what fullness is
and now that you're gone
I know lonely
it is the shadow of where you once were
and where I am now, incomplete


often so lost in the bliss of a moment
in sheer simplicity
in small joys
that she fails
to join in the rants and tirades
of other more "attuned" individuals


   She remembered her mother's manicured nails. Painted and perfectly polished in her favorite red coral, a simple gold band on her left hand. Her hands hummed gracefully through every act whether chopping tomatoes, tipping her afternoon cocktail, or carefully tracing the words across the page as she guided her little girl through her reading each night. Curled up against the sweet scent of Hibiscus and gin, tomorrows seemed promised forever.
   Those memories came now, hard and thick, on dark nights since the disease crept through her mother's body. An icy spider that stole her from this world too young for her years, too soon for this little girl's fragile heart. Empty corners seemed to multiply since she had left.
  She especially remembered on nights like tonight, as she painfully sounded out the words that taunted her from the page.."per-fect-ly man-i-cured Hi-bis-cus...


she, liked the color gray
the muted grey of distant rain clouds
the green-gray of the ocean on winter afternoons
and the pale blue-gray of the sky when it poured over the sea
she liked the way gray had nothing to hide
and yet, hid everything


dances, pummels, falls freely
free from the thoughts and cares of this world
she is caught up in her own mesmerizing momentum
now playful, now powerful, now hypnotizing
I step outside to join her



pale pink, white, translucent yellow
pretty painted petals
dance across beds of spring grass
skipping, scattering over paved paths
at every warble, buzz, peal of delight


seafoaming tide rolls up my sandy spine
beseeching me, drawing me in
bright notes of a gull lost in the cloudless sky
I lie among the jetties and wait for summer to return


she consumed late afternoon sunsets from crystal glasses
thin amber fluid like smoke and toffee on her tongue and throat
she found reasons to linger here, papers to read, thoughts to finish
before the sun stole away leaving her with an empty sky, and a dark glass



life was a basket swung from her hip
full, round, wicker, warm from her grip
the weight shifted with time from side to side
it rocked with the steady, sure beat of her stride
yet she never complained of the strain or the weight
and so she fed many with the bounty in her gait



quickens my heart,
catches my breath,
makes me stumble in the dark
paints me in bright colors,
hides me in this looming world
shocks me from my stupor,
lulls me peacefully to rest
pulses in my very veins,
slips as vapor from my mouth
will never leave me



i woke up early while the rain was still
pounding our small home with relentless fervor
but you slept on unaware of the storm
you're good at that you know
sleeping through torrents of angst that
only seem to wake me and rob me of sleep
i laid down then, next to you
and the steady rhythm of your breathing
waiting for the rain, and your breath
and the beating within my chest
to give me rest