Heaven, Here


It's our backyard
We're allowed
We allow ourselves
Such rights
As to keep a few toys strewn about
Such pleasures
Of the dancing of sun and shadows
Upon the nearly too-long grass
That feels so silky
So blessedly silky
Against our ankles and feet
And the breeze….

Silk Trek

Who longs, as the finest silk ought

To leave go all the soft-touch

To join the rugged from the far-reaches of the closet

To assume the trudge daily through crystal-cold streams 

A bandera, of sorts

Rambling top speed, East to West, then Eastward again, down an unattended-to thoroughfare

The most subtle of beacons guiding the eager to new heights

Then, after God-willed extra innings

To be the edges of the seat, rounding third wide, photo finish, face first slide into home 

smiles beginning

Do you choose the music you wrap yourself in 

Or does it choose you

How does it begin

I’d lay bets you reach out

With willowy fingers 

And some silken spider’s web smiles

And ensnares you as you thoughtlessly smile back

Coaxing it close around you, knowing you’ve no need to grasp

And this music and this you and this ease 

Finds us ensnared in the silk and the silly

Smiles beginning

Silk Sherlock

It was something like silk
In the same shade of green 
As the rings ’round my eyes
Whose flecks match the flowers in yours

And I wondered whether
It’d wow other women
(Which it did)
But-it-seems-to-have-wowed-you-too

Now laced within these lines
An invitation to investigate
If it is indeed
Silk
Sherlock