Gal

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Today, each day I say if I look up,
and this is a childish thing, I know, but
all I hope for is that
we look one another in the eyes
as we make peace and steal back time.

Someday Sunday

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Northbound perhaps?
With the cold for your friend
Would that you’d walk
To the end of the Earth
And fall straight-away 
For all that you’ve cost your heart 
With the wrong kind of noise
Then the most silent voice 
Could continue in peace 
To champion somebody else 

got to remain

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One lazy sofa chair
The color of toasted hay
To set and stare out with you
There before the picture window
Ella in the air
Louis hamming
A roundest table considers with us
The calm and the busy 
Whatever would we talk about 

no title

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He sat proudly
Above her
Honored to have his hands on her shoulders

She sat smiling 
At his feet
Confident her heart was in his care

His pride, her smile 
His hands, her heart
His care, her shoulders

I needed a photo, so I looked again 
And shuttered my eyes 
Their peace, my peace