Wrecked

Sometimes,

I remember that

the radio continues to play

as a car wrecks,

and I think that’s

how we often live –

ravaged by pain,

aware of our destruction,

and, yet,

humming along.

Staying

She pulls me

gently

down a well-worn path,

littered with ferns and old letters,

and brings me to

a flowery clearing.

“This is always where they leave,”

she says,

indicating the barren field.

“Yes,” I say,

“this is it.”

“This is what?”

“This is a perfect place

to build a home.”

Halloween

Breathing heavy,

I wait for light to leave the sky –

longing for your nighttime spell

a brutal, tortured tongue-tie.

You haunt me with your drawling voice

dark and yet unseen,

you disturb my foolish, failing heart

and call it Halloween.

Pain

We reject pain,

but how

that rejection

— that indominatable spirt

to thrive against loss,

creates the most

beauty!

Danger

We’re warned

about the dangers

of the world —

the heat of fire,

the power of water,

the shifting weight of the wind —

but the world

has never,

never,

wounded me

like the dangers

in my heart.

Lover’s Field

Every morning,

I push out

my love for you,

push it beyond my reach,

until I can no longer feel it.

Every night,

I see it standing in the field

and

hear it coming through the cracks,

closing in for another

suffocated sleep.