The Sungazers’ Waltz

I never looked directly

into the sun’s bright rays

to fully appreciate

the splendor as I gaze

at the brushstrokes on the land

and the painted heavens–

a feeling unparalleled,

unmatched in its pleasance.

It’s not that I’ll pay no mind

when our paths intersect

for I’ll still see the splendor

all around, indirect,

and you will still be beauty

and pleasance as you are,

and often I will ponder

of that brilliant star


Along the Way

By feet or wheels,

by metal wings cutting through air

or propeller and sail on water,

set sights for the horizon

and charge full speed ahead

with the zeal of a wanderer

and the heart

of an adventurer,

never stopping

until you catch the sun

along the way








Here’s a similar idea, except poorly imitating Whitman:


Fast Songs

Slow song,

fast heartbeats,

a slow burn into a wildfire–

wasted whiskey to feed either vice

but thrown to the wind instead.

Was it love? Was it not?

Now flowers laid waste–

their petals fall,

fingertips from shaky hands

pulling them off

as if the flower knew

some answers.

What answers?

Who knew?

We didn’t.

Fast songs played us out.


May I (Tell of an April Day)

I can see that you are worried

about the love I have for you,

your heart’s been broken many times

and you wonder if love’s true.

But if I may inform you now

the moment it will be its worst

will be that day most infamous–

yes, on April 31st.

On that day I will leave you and

I know that you will leave me too

but what a lovely thing it is

when that April day is through.


Polar Ecosystems

At some point the bitter

started to taste sweet

and the sweet tasted

like charcoal,

her love went cold

like a blizzard

in June

and confused me

beyond the neat box

my scattered thoughts

resided in.

I don’t think she likes me much

but even the bitter cold

has it’s own ecosystems

like our polar opposite lives


she still loves me

for some reason

I can’t explain


The Glass Is Empty

I thought I’d want a drink

when I told her goodbye,

revel in misery

like an old country song

with an “Aw shucks” grin

or even a wink . . .

. . .

But then


came along.

Your love was not

a constant state of


Your love was a sober one.

For once

I saw clearly,

I walked the straight and narrow,

I wanted to work

towards a goal of perfecting

my love for you

and I kept moving the goalposts

so the goal

would never be reached.

I was no longer

the dumb kid who

needed liquid validation

or a youthful romance

that could end on a whim.

It was a serious love.

The glass is empty

and my heart

is full.

Who knows what lays in store

for us

but I’ll look on in awe

at it

and you

especially at you

with sober eyes.