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Who Fell First

Memory is tricky

Fading tricks of light

Remembering what we thought we knew

Obscure

Slightly askew

Summer days of honey

Golden light and blue blue skies

Buzzing bees o’er fields of clover

Thunderstorms blew up from the past

Roiling clouds come rolling in from distant places

Pink heat lighting flickers long before the booming sounds

A charge is in the air

The temperature is dropping

Darkening sky and quickening heart

We were just fourteen when all time stopped

A crack of lighting lashed the sky

Large slow drops began to hit the warm concrete

Sidewalks curbs and suburban streets

Manicured grass soft to barefeet

Low rumblings growing closer

The light then sound and count it out

How far the storm we wonder

Every minute stronger power

We mark the moment that all changes

From comfortable skin to something new

A glance

A brush of bare arms

We are crackling like lightning

Our hearts are thunderous

Treacherous beasts

At the loudest sudden sound we shudder

Laughing just a beat too late

The sky is fissured

Cracked by light and split by sound

Here comes the rain now pouring down

We run out in the wind arms wide

We spin in storms outside of time

Tumble together in the sodden grass

We laugh with gods and goddesses

We made it here at last

This refuge from the past

Collapsed

I guess it never mattered

Who fell first

We help each other up

The storm has left a promise

We collect it every day

Every breath

Every beat of passion

Every gentle glance of love

We walk away still holding hands

The path calling us home awaits

seashore scenery
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Whispering Love

I unpacked my fears and flaws
Audited and sorted
I folded and repaired
The tears and rents within
With tenderness I reached
A wilderness untamed
An isolated beach
An ocean calm and still
A never-ending peace
A refuge in the storm
I tossed away some garments
Doubt and worry in the pile
They just no longer fit
The shape I have become
Every fear
Every flaw
I know their names now
Wrapped carefully in kindness
Less likely to sting
This time of year I air it out
Housecleaning in the spring
Neatly folded into drawers
Or cast out in the rain
I whisper love
Both day and night
I whisper love
Confidence and fright
I whisper love
In darkness and in light

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How’s the Weather?

The day threatened to swelter

The night took one step back

I was crying at the kitchen sink

Too hot and tired to pray

The dogs lay on the cool tile floor

Napping to the beat

My heart started to crumble

Nothing ventured down the hall

“Babe” echoed and resounded

I fell apart and gained

There is no sorrow quite just like

What came in with the rain

I’m shrinking from the spotlight

Fleeing back against the wall

I could bloom here very nicely

Purple petals waving gently

Too many eyes can see me

And I’m fastened to the floor

If I move my arms just right

Can I fly away again

Just myself and twinkling stars

In a vacuum isolated

Snuggled deep inside a comfort zone

I could sleep while they all waited

But the moment shouldered past

My fears and hesitations

The dishes now are drying

Wrung from their moisture laden faces

A little ocean settling

From a stormy perturbation

wall plate rack with ceramic plates
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A Distinction

Does the rose have hopes of red

A longing for a certain shade

Velvet texture crimson

And is that rose disappointed

By its hue of white yellow or pink

Or does that rose grow

In the shade of its genetic distinction

Glowing softly in the evening light

And will the dandelion cry

That it is not a rose

And lacks the thorns and reverence

Bestowed upon its kin

Will it wish to be gathered into bouquets

Symbolizing love

Or is it happy to be medicinal

Golden sunspots on the lawn

Will it revel in its distinction

Pithy roots and hollow stemmed

And will I grow in my distinction

Into the form genetically bestowed

Taking talent and experience

Mixed with trials and errors

And grow within and without my bounds

Not looking at the rose or at the dandelion

With envy or disdain

Can I pull courage from the earth itself

And hopes down from the sky

Transmuting ethereal energy into a

Common cosmic flow

Of love

Will I dance in gentle breezes

And bend low in the storm

Will the sunlight bid me open

And the twilight bid me close

But most of all will I grow here

In this individual distinction

Let my colors be my colors

Without regret or woe

Let my texture be my texture

Each leaf and petal flowing

Out from center

In its predetermined pattern

And will I choose to walk a path

And a destiny pursue

Which will add to life’s collection

Of bountiful blessings

Will I bloom