Again.

He told me he didn’t want to see me again;
that that was the end of our romance.
Out of place in the restaurant,
I began to cry-the words silently rolled down my cheeks.
Everything was falling apart, including my dress.
I accidently tore it on the way inside the restaurant,
my knee caps showing.  Anyway, he left me for a girl
I didn’t like.  I pray  he will return to me.
We are meant to be together.
The flowers he gave me for last Valentine’s Day
are still sitting on my dresser in my bedroom.
I can’t stand crying in public.
I gave up everything for us to be together,
it wasn’t worth it now, I see it now,
standing in front of me like a tidal wave
climbing up into the burnt brown sky.
His eyes are brown.
He gets up, throws money on the table, and leaves,
with me crying after him-”Don’t go.”

I move to the ocean to get away from memories
of him-he left his clothes there, in our old apartment, and I picture him
wandering around naked somewhere, and my eyes smile a bit.
Not too much.  This is what it feels like to have a heart broken-
I never had one before, this is my first time.
I capture the image of him in my mind,
the way his hair wove about his head,
the way he smiled, and his laughter that was like the trill of a bird.
 I seek him in my mind.
This is what I seek.

Time and Song, etc.

In the steel mines, the birds are singing with upturned throats-
They see the importance of being important.

I follow my heart with a recorder, life bangs on steel drums.
What I said was, “I can’t take the heat,” to the ballpark manager

And everyone else was fitted for a dress-to me, everything was simple
And workable.  I couldn’t place my agony today.  Where was I?

Time flies by.  Birds make time sing a double note.
I can’t find myself in a mirror, these words I hold dear to me.

With every living thing, I sing a simple song.  My work here is done.
I move on.  With a ratio.  Time stands still.  Everything is workable,

Plus food is needed for the stomach-
I heart today and yesterday-

I know no bounds.  What did I do?  To make time go more slowly.
What did I do to make you go away.  My heart aches for a sticky bun.

I wish I were far from here, a place where I could sing my all,
A place where time is entwined in my own hands.

The Park

Walking in the park on a lazy day afternoon-
Ducks swim in the pond, and I watch them carefully,
To make sure they don’t drown.  Willows whisper
To me excitedly-
I can’t stand them!  They annoy me!  The park is bright
With sunshine,
And I smell honeysuckle on each side of the sidewalk.
The honeysuckle makes me think of home,
For my mother used to grow them in her yard.
Honeysuckles rule the flowers, they are the queen of
The roses and daisies.  It’s the poet in me, I guess,
To know the names of flowers in my head-
I watch them move back and forth in the breeze,
Then I watch the ducks again, the tiniest one makes
Me think “Awww, how cute,” and I smile prettily.

The River.

The clouds come in from the west-it is bitterly cold.
The wolf is laying in his den; icy coldness made from silk
Pours from his nostrils.  The sun is icy, too.  Everything is covered
In ice.  The wolf’s stomach growls.  He wants some food.  He gets up,
And goes for the hunt-a lone rabbit nestled between a tree and a blade
Of grass is his target.  The rabbit sees and bounds into the forest.  The forest
Is practically empty, except for houses on either side.  No one is home,
But they, too, know about the wolf.  Who knows about the wolf?  It asks itself.
Everyone!  That’s why there are so few of them left.  The wolf goes about,
Looking for food.  It sees a river.  What is a river?  Rivers are wide,
And haunt humans.  Humans know nothing but fear.  The joy is in the fear.
The wolf dunks his paw into the river, trying to catch a fish-he tries again,
And again.  His stomach growls.  The wolf comes in threes, and the river
Comes in threes, over and over again, climbing higher into the sky,
The trees see everything, but the wind does not..