Monday, November 22, 2010

I inquired about the empty jar tucked between leather bound chronicles on the shelf in her bedroom that was labeled “love”. I told her it seemed sad. She explained to me that when she gives her love away she gives it with a penny. If it’s returned then the love is lost and she much prefers a heart full of love to a jar full of pennies.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Sepia smile

She dangles her legs over his lap
Running her plum colored nails
Lightly up and down the nape of his neck
While her other hand is enmeshed with his
They have nowhere else to be
But a park bench, surrounded by fallen leaves
Burning bright against the dying grass
The sound of the river against the rocks
Is not enough to drown out their laughter
Or the love between them
Her heart beams through her eyes
And her sepia smile
Caught forever behind glass
And placed upon the mantle
Full of moments that made her complete.


I haven’t climbed a tree since you
But today I find myself
Skinning my knees
To perch on a branch and search for you
The laughter we shared
My first kiss
In pig tails and June sun scorching
Our freckled faces
As we hid in the leaves
And planned a life together
So much has changed since we were teens.
20 years and I don’t even know the girl I once was
For once you were gone
A part of me disappeared too
And no matter how hard I search
She is not to be found
Nor is the boy that made my heart flutter
So I sit in a bare gray tree
With a November wind
Whipping through my jacket
Bitter and cold
Like a life without your smile.


A storm brews
Clouds break
We hunker down
And prepare to take
Howling winds
Gusts of snow
Temperatures of
30 below
We fight to protect
The family we’ve made
And hope the blizzard of her
Doesn’t cause us to lose our way.
I thought this time I had found my prince charming but it appears they all come with a hammer to destroy that glass slipper.

Thursday, November 4, 2010


I hear the gravel spit & clink against the rust.
Your departure postponed longer than usual but still eminent.
Each sweet caress of your hand against my skin is
Only a mirrored motion of the waving of your goodbye
Which will always come, shortly after you catch your breath
And my heart again.
I don’t weep anymore, calling your name, choking
On the cloud of dust you leave behind.
I lay silent and wait for your headlights and love to return.


Eyes rage
Fires flare
Tempers rise
In the blink of an eye
Or just one word
I speak
And you ignite
And I cannot
Squelch or calm
The inferno
Until it burns itself out
Or you blow your icy silence
Upon it
I wish I could mute
The fight in your soul
The questions in my mind
And the pride in our hearts.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

She said she keeps these facts on file, in case it tries to resurface and she needs a quick reference guide. I thought it was a pretty brilliant way to keep track of lost love and broken hearts, so as not to repeat the same mistakes again.


I remember counting freckles
Starting on the nose
And how they would start to form
After the summer sun
Had melted them together
Into sporadic designs
Framing your icy blue eyes
You would wiggle your nose
So that I would lose count
And have to start all over again
But I never cared
Counting freckles was only
A great excuse
For me to lay in your arms
Gaze at your face
And bask in your love.


There’s a frame to this house
And six empty rooms
Reminding me that
Floors and walls
Do not make a home
No pictures or beds
Giggles or breaths
Silence echoing
Through the corridor
Lonely and sad
Framed but not filled
Like my days since you left