Something Gardens

A sunny day

On this, the fore-edge of Spring

It looks like something good happens here

In this, the place they renamed, “Something Gardens”

Although I see really only billboards and bungalows and bulldozed-over housing projects

And strangely, no gardens

But there is the color and promise upon everyone’s skin

The special sauce in people’s blood

So I become sure

I plan to see the Something Good that happens here -those “Something Gardens” that mean to grow

So I stay and I work

I help

I sow, that someone else may reap

I wait

And I see that I, too, grow


In three years too much
Of my ascending pain
Did I shortchange the machine

If I bared enough skin
As I suspect I did
Did I play fast and loose at the game

In the gamble of life
With the risk I embraced
Did I fail to take The One last chance

If the mountains would cry
They would echo my “No”
Did I fail to drink of unseen truths



This skin likes the morning light
The way the Sun sounds
When all’s alright
I wonder what hour the tides tend to turn
When adrenaline’s glow
Becomes exhaustion’s yearn



No heart involved
It is the skin
It is the thick and the tender
That the blind won’t abide
That the visionary won’t avoid 
The rough and the soft
The sweat, the tears, the blood
Which ought run free
Which prove the day-in and day-out
To beautify that veneer
To strengthen the hearts involved 


Soaked in and wrung out as the Sun at day’s end

With only the scorched skin to show

Hands up and head back, to laugh is the key 

At best and at worst, I am faced to know