Ghosted

 he was there in front of me, dark, curly hair,

a smile, he's a cook and love museums.

we loaned him a bike, which eventually made 

its way back

I had started to worry.

Now the flowers are brighter than him, 

a mere shadow of memory, a curious one, a 

mystery, a disappearance,

what is this ghost?

Michele

"Michele!" and he would swoon and fan his face.

"Michele!" I wonder where she is, in what 

country she is passing through, gypsy like,

light on her feet, almost dancing, the ballerina.

One night we were here, in the same place,

the photo is proof, that we were smiling and 

laughing together,

I basked in her radiant smile and dry humor

(that drove my brother crazy, me, I laugh)

"Michele" when will I see you again, 

dear Michele!  I miss you so.

Wake up

it's a new day

wake up!  the click of dog paws

awaits you, wake up!  the

flowers are following the sun, 

friends are waiting to hear from you,

it's time to make art, to play

music, to smell the air and

watch passers-bye.  Wake up!

it's time to wake up!  it's past

time to wake up!

Arise!

50% off

Fifty percent off -

what can one buy for 50% off,

not a lover,

nor a child,

groceries do not come so cheap

nor rentals, automobiles

or bicycles.

A friendship is invaluable,

a Family must be built, not bought.

WE cannot buy rain or snow,

or a sunny day, there are no bargains

on freedom or democracy, nor beauty.

the best one can do is wait until

the plants at the shop call to be put

into the ground.

I dash to buy them, and

plant them in the ground

next Spring there will be beauty in the Garden

50% off Plus Labor plus Love. 

Seeing

The beam of light is not centered

and an eyelash blocks the way, 

the eyepieces are misaligned

and too wide for the eyes, the

blind one that refused to see.

it was right in front of her, the

darkness, the light did not reach

no wonder she is blind

the beautiful purple silk conceals

the scars, the pulls herself up,

centers the beam, clears the eyepieces

and sees, once again.

A tempting path, yet...

a tempting path presents itself

yet we turn away, uncertain of the 

destination, the difficulty of the route,

a small blockade perhaps,

tangled foliage and a sign of trampling

we wonder who has gone before

and failed, so we stand still,

neither moving forward, to east or

west, nor backwards, as the rain falls

around us and our shoulders weep

we should have moved, but 

we did not.

The Wonder of a Bus Ride

sparkling sequins,

wonder in her eyes,

she's on the bus!

Rainbow wings, 

she's on the bus,

flying through the Boulder streets

she's on the bus.

Croissants and coffee

await her,

she's on the bus

Why take the bus

I ask

A smile in her eyes

Its fun, she says,

that's why

she's on the bus

Tenderness

a picture is worth a thousand words,

but words flow 

what is tenderness but that precious softness

of an embrace, a holding so gentle that

the embraced can look out into the world

with no fear or worry, not even knowing

that the embrace is what makes it possible.

that's tenderness, the unconscious giving,

the receiver and the giver in a perfect 

dance of love.