thesnowwasfallinglightly
My eyes opened first, though I was sure that
(the basement curtains meant that we had slept)
you were probably awake. My left arm fell
(through the train, slept through the chance to live)
asleep in the mean time. It didn’t take much
(our lives. We both were groggy and fully)
to rouse you. The sound of footsteps above our
(clothed, but aware that it wasn’t armor.)
heads and the light barely being held back by
fugaziisnotknownforlovesongs
(connection at all.)
I wore my t-shirt,
(to see your eyes, to make any)
it was the same as yours,
(I wanted to hear your voice,)
it was clean I swear,
(landing’s path)
I was hoping you’d turn
(Bulbs flickering, a constructed)
around and say something,
(with your friends.)
anything to me.
(and then walked to your car)
But you kept looking forward,
jewelosconearharlemandmadison
It was my shoulder, sequestered in this dark corner of the parking lot, curing ills in neat blistered packages lined in foil.
It was my shoulder that was too good to leave but too shaky a territory to start anew. That terribly lonesome new world that was offered but politely refused,
passed back across the table with some chicken-scratched no.
iranthefourminutemile
I was on the edge of McHenry, when
I saw your porch light, the now bare bulb, the one we broke last August
sleeping on your dirty floor, the party too much for us both
the drinks providing the palate
I saw you topless and making out with
my best friend, but I was just your driver
the next morning I took you to work and you told me all that you remembered
we were friends first
whatitwasliketobeyoungandinlove
Santa Rosa wildfires
sweet sounds, making love
the roar and crackle, spreading
the love thickly with the touch
of the breeze –
in all directions I was surrounded,
I was pinned down shaking,
until only the blackened earth remained
and above me the clear, blue sky
Entry photo "HCTX Ranch House Front Porch Light" by Robert W. Howington