Sunday, July 12, 2015


I read today about a probe
sent out to Pluto and then beyond
So distant, so far from where it began
So cold, so far from the warmth of the sun
So small, alone in that infinite vastness...

And then I look over at you
and know that the distance between you and I
in this small room
is greater by far.
And it is so cold here
that words freeze before they are heard.
And I realize that
inevitably and inexorably you are
growing further apart from me.
And the distance between us
throws that trip to Pluto
into insignificance.

Soon you will be gone too far,
a tiny speck in my memory.
A small flickering star
where warmth used to be.

Monday, June 15, 2015

Saturday, May 2, 2015

Deep Dive

You're diving on a wasted wreck
a ship whose sailing days are done,
lying on this reef, just a pile of dreck,
of no possible use to anyone.

Sudden storms sank it ages ago,
cracked its mast and tore off the sail.
Now it lies on the bottom, far below,
wearing seaweed like a mourner's veil.

Just how deep you would have to go
to find any speck of treasure...
that answer is something I do not know,
it is a distance beyond my measure.

It is best just to let it be,
let it lie on the ocean floor,
there is nothing left that could set it free.
It won't be sailing the sea anymore.

Friday, April 17, 2015


You are a soft breeze
And I am a silver chime
That finds a purpose
Every time you pass through me.

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Home Improvement

today would seem to be the perfect day 
to paint these walls in shades of pink and gray
doing it's as easy as pointing a gun
raise your hand, pull the trigger and it's done

that's all it would take to improve this room
to erase the doldrums, remove the gloom
one simple motion would cover it all...

...and spread my brains over this empty wall

then there'd be no mystery about me
every thought would be there for you to see
right up there in brilliant streaks of pink
is every thought I took the time to think

every word I said, everything that I knew
all of the things that I believed were true
like hieroglyphs inside an ancient tomb
my thoughts would cover the walls of this room

and when everyone that had called me friend
sees their stories through to the bitter end
when there is no one left that can explain
then my thoughts will be just an old gray stain