Headache

All the running 
And I don’t know where I was going with this
But
It seemed important enough 

Grace then woke me ’round mid-nite
From the dream
That was someone else’s 
And giving me small rest

Honest Ruse

Upon what land, what sinking sand
Do your feet stand

When what is true reduces you
To kneeling, sobbing, midnight-blue

Yet fallacy, it comforts thee
From its midst, hope flows gracefully

To be

You on the savanna not in khaki 

Bygone-era flashgun held high at high-noon

Since you know there’s more than meets the eye

A yellow hat, but not exactly

Irritatingly inhuman level of patience for them

Misplaced monkeys beside you

Under the black cloth with you now

Looking for the simple

The Way Of It

With the compressed exuberance of a schoolroom full of children penned
Spilled then to the play yard uncontained 
There bravely apart will always stand
The One boy

On the outside looking in 
With a sing-song strong voice no one will hear
Quick to smile eyes that yet catch no gaze 
An uncommon courage the only company, she stands back, knowing her place