IMG_0822Do you remember
the songs of yesterday
running through your head
your heart
as lightly
your feet skimmed the earth

streams beside the pup-tent
sang through the night
chilling the milk
in the jug tied fast to the rocks
for breakfast
and the taste of that milk in the morning

hours spend raking, hiss of drying leaves
piles and piles
of red and gold and orange and brown
whose only purpose was
not the cleanest yard in town
but the run down the bank
and the leap into the center

canter thump of horse feet
as around and around the pasture
again and again and again
freedom of bareback
smelling of hay and sweat
yours, the horse’s
laughter as the day let go

spinning in the starlight
crickets and fireflies
darkness and light
spinning and spinning
until, dizzy
you fell
to the dew wet ground
staring at the starlight
the moon your dance’s spotlight

Remember the music
remember the song
remember the feeling
return to that place
where the song
was all yours

Little Boy Blues

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Memories of
childhoods lost
hauntingly happy
brilliantly etched
forever new

snapshots stolen
from moments dear
preciously hoarded
as queen’s coffers

Walking through the memories
lives captured
fear of the forgotten world
there you are
and there
and in the passing
who will remember
that which
can never be erased.

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Watching Them Grow

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With awe and wonder
I watch them grow
such a short time ago
stumbling… falling… getting up again
bumps and bruises and skinned up knees
young and innocent and happy
and they grew
dirty sweaty children
they became
as children often do
running and giggling
stumbling… falling… getting up again
broken bones and stitches
tears clean off the dirt
and they grew
the teenagers they became
little rebellion
but anger and frustration
at the injustice of it all
stumbling… falling… getting up again
the tears the fears and the pain
theirs… mine…
the unforgetable years
carved forever in my heart
and they grew
I watch them now
covertly from a distance
wanting to protect them
catch them when they fall
and yet in the fall is the learning
stumbling… falling… getting up again…
and I can’t
but with pride
and with wonder
I watch
the beauty of the unfolding adults
they are becoming
… and they grow…

Dead End

Driving down the interstate
Busy people
In busy cars
To busy lives
Too busy to care
To stop and smell
The asphalt wet with warm spring rain
I blinked
And I was ten
Walking through waist high grass
To where
Once upon a time
The road crossed field
After field
Winding passed farms
And families
Until progress and speed
Cut through everyone’s reality
Now, where once was road
Stands fence
And fence
And weeds
And hours of mindless entertainment
Watching the classing cars
Doing 80 on 80
And standing on the wooden fence
Trying to get passing trailer trucks
To waste a little time
And air pressure
To blow the horn
At a kid
Doing nothing
With nothing to do


I pour the cream
Into the dark brown memories
It swirls into the dreams of my childhood
I am five
pouring milk
on daddy’s knee
into his coffee
I see the clouds
I remember
The cups that line my cupboards
Fill the shelves
remind me
of who I am
where I came from
The coffee clouds
bring back Old Spice
Open Kitchen Windows
and heavy cast off diner cups
instant coffee
and thick real, cream separated, milk