Two Thousand Five

She was forty and
still beautiful with
sweet children and days
long in busy dreams
nights settled
fires, home

She was forty when
the lies knocked
sweet children betrayed
pretense of love
nights torn
fears, outside

She was forty two and
still cute but blind
sweet children so strong
make it right
try again
friend, rival

She was forty more
the truth enraged
sweet teens resilient
not this again
her shame
forced, fall

She is fifty gone
the beauty inside
sweet children grown
seventeen years
their dreams now
wait and watch
solo, free

…

Chords in Heaven

I wonder of the chords in heaven
If we are but a reflection
In a dimly lit mirror
Music winds and untangles life
Progressions fill the purple corners of our thoughts.

(c) 2014

Beyond Your Eyes

If anything is proof
of spirit beyond flesh,
it’s in your eyes
across three decades.
soul to soul.
I remember now.

When turbulence settles
and calm arrives,
my age is subtle
older, wiser, grateful.
breath to breath.
How we laugh now.

Even if I’m a fool
to gaze into the grey,
it’s worth the risk
beyond crafted words.
thought to thought.
You’ve seen me now.

(c) 2020

Two Summers

Summer on the wind
flows 1974 currents past
My unsuspecting 2016 KIA,
and tangles my grey hair
like pigtails and pine needles.

I’m suddenly ten
every ounce of me,
time-warped on manzanita
tumbling in red Earth and dragonflies.

Summer on the wind swirls back to 2020,
over flats and stretchy pants
blowing past my wrinkles
like canyons of laughter.
I’m expectedly 55
each and every pound,
time worn in shadows and shade ducking quietly into Autumn.

(c) 2019