Right-angle

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So shallow sun
You’re on your way, I see
I, unwittingly lingering at the South end of the street,
Noticed you
And remembered, too
The promise of That December day
Also on its way
Whence I became oh-so-able to endure your tallest morning shadows

The Truth Is

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Yesterday felt like that strange, suburban taupe that fleeing people paint their houses.
As if to differentiate they made it out from the color, as if that is the goal.

The brass-ring door knocker the badge displayed, front and luke-warm center.
So as to say only some are welcome to come a-knocking.

Dare to spend the sweat to tear down the white-washed fences, to bring in the yellow.
To draw the eye from the curb to the threshold, to inside where the warmth is golden-brown.

When should we gather, finally gather, at a light-lit table and see the truth is black and white?
Today feels like that.

Nervous Tics

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I’d never ask you to be invisible with me.
The impossibility of it.
Though, I sometimes summon you silently, then think better of speaking aloud.
But we both hear me, don’t we?
We both know it ends there.
For your magic is more.
Different than my magic is.
You make the good appear.
I make the bad go away.

We Keep Hope

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Winter and alone
Unbearable uncertainty
God what will you do
When wind forces its way to the door
Carrying icy-cold information
Crystalizing shut
The truth after all
There’s no school today
Hooray

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Merged

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I believed, I believe, in you. I touched the edges of the shadow of you that I found myself in.

I knew, I know, you’re on purpose. I was promised a plan and your arms just so happened to reach ‘neath my path.

I wanted, I want, to walk onward. I treasure the somehow-spilled-from-you pieces as I journey.

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