i keep my soul hidden now beneath scattered tattered notebook paper pieces in outdated shoe boxes & deep between the covers of books, crisply underlined & strong- strong there, only there, with those words. most days i wake praying for rain; that tender soft world that it provides me with, drowns out the ever-constant hum of traffic, arguing, the war on television, the growing sigh of humanity.

here i am.

i see us
faraway now, maybe next
to an ocean,
this crippled earth balancing
on her stone axis,
always in motion.
to dream of you here
is better than death…
Finally, I found myself winding through country fields; fields of wheat, corn, soybean. The plants swayed in the wind and the Sunday sunlight, waving hello. I pictured you there…
I pass through these days as a ghost might,
under the black umbrella of
silence i carry.
There is no touch.
Words are easy, familiar but disconnected…
i fall in love with everyone i meet in some unexplainable, minor way. i am remembering a dark night in Galveston texas when the gulf brought in cool january air & we sat in a small diner under hazy lights…