whispers

night slowly
drawing shade
skin savoring
each gracing breeze
the trees rustle
cryptic conversations
among themselves
asking about
the soul who wanders
and where is the other
close your eyes
you’ll hear the ocean
too much car commotion
looks off to what
he thinks is west
that would be
the place to rest
the breeze gone
a stillness settles
stars fixed
clouds drifting
soul
not yet lifting

straight and winding

black highway white lines
lost in the time
trance like thunder
echoes through my chest
the sky a grey wrinkled quilt
puffy like her eyelids
crying through the night before
depression, needing to cry
but the well of tears run dry
enlightenment finds you
in the yellow light box
of a maintenance truck behind you
road rising through the trees
asphalt river, valley of leaves
stopped at the intersection
of freedom and sadness

church bells

tolling church bells carry
on grey winter skies of solid clouds
pacing parking lots to ponder
the wedding that wasn’t
the wedding that shouldn’t have been
and the marriage that was
not common law or common sense
but has been from the beginning
the sandy altar the waves bearing witness
if any seagull objects squawk now
or forever be silent