into nothing

I will

S T R E T C H

the clouds

O P E N

until

the sun makes its way through - -

drizzling onto me - -

onto you.

I will
drink
up the Woods

until
my laughter

d
...r
......i
..........p
..............s

with pine.

I will cover myself
with fallen leaves

until

I crumble
again
and again

into
nothing.

the same dream

falling from the moonlight
you dance into my dream
and whisper of all the things we shared
that now we never see

we fly through
autumnal trees

leaves fall like
golden
wings

we travel to the end of land
where lies a single rose
you say this is where our love will live,
a place nobody knows

but who will

water

a rose

on the edge
of the world?

it was tended to enough before
the roots remember

it remains alive!

but we won't see it while awake
this rose lives within the night

will I remember of the rose
or only while I sleep?
and did you dream of the same dream,
or is this mine to keep?

and while we were there

And while we were there
And while we were there
And while we were there
nothing was said
just butterflies and lips
and curly hair.

The moon undressed
and slipped into my room
its soul so bare
its cry so thin
it was seeking union.

It poured into my curly hair
my bed, a golden
throne of light.

And while we were there
And while we were there
And while we were there
nothing was said
just butterflies and lips,
and curly hair.

A butterfly flew into my room
to carry the moon back into the sky.
you must return, it said, you are what makes the night.

But the moon was resting in my bed
my hair was glowing gold light

while all around was dark.

The butterfly cried
I will take a piece of you
to bring back to the night

and all the other butterflies
jumped into the moon
to take a sip of light.

The butterflies flew into the wind
to light the sky
we call them fireflies!

and through the night
the moon slept in my arms.

but when the sun arose
but when the sun arose
my love had gone
leaving just one curl
now golden

now golden

now golden

into a song

I have turned you

into a song.

and now,

it's

the song

that remains.

one [end] brings back all the rest

just

I carry around chalk when we hang out
to draw the line
I can't easily see.

The line between
what is
-----and-----
what's not

the line that makes an Almost

not Yes.

But each day the line is erased!

So I work on drawing a THICKER line,

one that will remain!

Even still, the next day,
all traces have strayed!

So...
I bring in hand
a permanent marker.

One,
that FOREVER stains.

but by the next day,
we're in a different place!

The line lies miles away!

I still have the marker,
only now I'm drawing pretty pictures,
and soon forget
that what I see
is what I made!

until------
a HARSH reminder.

This line falls
so hard

I

b/ r/ e/ a/ k

July 4th Fun

watermelon--bursting--fire--works

close enough
to remember
being closer

but far enough
to remember
why

Banff !

one of many

-
sometimes
I'm convinced
.
.
it's me!

but maybe...

that look is always in your eye?

and I'm just one of many

passing by.

the kind of sad
that makes
each step more tender,

every word
as gentle as

a
good morning

a
bless you

a
please.

the kind of sad
that makes you pray

even
if
you don't believe.

----

a gift from a dream---