Backroads
There’ll be no bicycle parked outside my heart
At your disposal
Your hands are unclean
Your feet too unwilling
Not enough strength in your lungs
To ride with my whimsy
I backtrack along backroads that lead to sunflower fields
And I’ve seen your eyes fall short of reverence
I offer too often, too much — my invitation time and again to set a spell
For the sunlight’s forever waning
It’s a light we need to follow
Can’t I wish to hold each photon with you?
Delete: A Haiku
You can’t deserve me
Leave on your shoes, eat berries
Stay in the bramble
Original Thought Credit: “Aurora Leigh;” Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Exchange
We each do need to save ourselves
To move through
To move on, if we’re lucky
This picture
This paint, these colors, peeling
Won’t always be adhered to this wall
This wall won’t always be
Talk to me and I’ll talk to you
Scream if you need to
I sometimes do
Alone, on our own, for now
But someday we’ll talk with eachother
It’s what the sage says
Auroral Zones

Untitled
Some gravitational pull
Or easterly mysticism
Compelled my travels
I had to go to Planet X today
What promised to be a meditative thing
Instead left me
I, now with mere baubles and defunct space junk
Re-entry burned me
The landing gave me new perspective
The Earth is indeed flat
Love is always light-years away
There’s no cadence to this
miracle heart transplant
there is no Noah-gene abounding of me
no spin of the wheel offering another lifespan allowance equal to what you’ve long since spent
in silence, find truth
there is no infinite number of star-filled skies
no take-backs or do-overs, despite my shouts of forgiveness and this miracle heart transplant
in truth, find silence
Reign: A Haiku
O, Northern Neighbor
Sanctuary, please, my soul
Cometh thund’rous day
Dawned II
Never received an I’m sorry
Never did hear a hello
Never was asked, “Please be with me”
Never a warning you’d go
You wouldn’t think that I’d still care
You didn’t mind how it pained
You live a life now half empty
You will not know me again