i am not fool enough to believe

that love shall conquer all, but i am wise

enough to understand that love, however small,

may bloom most unexpectedly, on some

unexpected day, when someone somewhere

has lost their once familiar way

 

*****

inside a bubble, lost at sea

 

what is the sea, at sorrow’s bend, with knees pulled to

my chin, the ragged waves come at me now, your memory

more clear than what still lies ahead.  it is a time

to let things be, the wooden boats sit idly at the docks

a bank of clouds in moving in, slate gray and filled with rain.

 

*****

a show of possibility

 

in the course of all that’s even been,

has anyone looked death in the eye

forced his hand and then walked on by

 

the stories we’ve written, the ones we’ve read

a singular plot to never grow old and never be dead,

 

perhaps the question, existential should be

how to make life more about life and less about me.