put it off

i'm out of time

or so i say

and put it off

from this today

the thing can wait

i'll do it when

tomorrow comes

it's fine 'til then

the whisper soothes

the day flies by

full of stuff

i'd rather try

a day a year

it comes and goes

words unwritten

tv shows

i'm older now

the hair is grey

and still i say

maybe today

it's all i have

this here and now

to paint the sky

and change somehow

the page is blank

and so i stare

in hopes my thoughts

will find somewhere

but nothing comes

and so i sigh

tomorrow waits

until i die

subtext

 a thousand words 

we paint a scene 

professing knowledge 

by other means 

than face to face 

one to another 

we’d rather not try

and keep our brother

who stands apart 

outside our touch 

because we fear

it’d be too much 

to let him close 

give him free choice 

the risky option 

to hear his voice 

and find he might 

think differently 

would rock the core

of you and me

so safe we stay

in our glass shell

and prattle on

the words we tell 

June Gloom

the longest day and a year half over

a chill down my spine

like the echo of December wind

as hopes become dreams

help my unbelief

the wet blanket of marine air

dampening activity

shutting summer down

so many wishes blown out in joy

grumbling gratitude

rose petals and cottonwood down

a carpet of dying comfort

plentiful food tipping the scale

as guilt rides in on the insulin rush

my thoughts multiply

July crashes in with pyrotechnics

the beginning of the end in denial

distracted by a kaleidoscope of colour

until the gloom of June fades

like a cloud of witnesses

gazing into a blue sky of forgetfulness 

the light intoxicates with clarity

an inexorable change like the grim reaper

rides on the smell of woodsmoke

remember me

sin frontera

brick by translucent brick i've carefully

constructed this house of cards to bar

the way from all the harms and hurts

keeping at bay all the things that go bump

in the lonely dark night and i'm safe

in my impregnable fortress of glass

with all the locks facing out but no keys

if you cannot come in you cannot win

i cannot be persuaded to change 

my borders keep out the things i fear

and so i'm serene in here immune to all

no one can touch me and i quiver yet

a shaft of sunlight illuminates the cell

what cannot come in cannot hold me

without risk i am empty of reward

winter weather advisory

it's still not snowing. for days the forecast fanfare foretold 

snowflakes, winter storm warnings abounding, and staring 

out the window past the current negative temps and tales of 

snow for the next 6 hours the green grass and dismal freezing 

rain belie the snowflake icon. i can't sit still. i check the 

window. i check the app. the continual disagreement echoed 

by the tumultuous wind keeps me restless. i'm pacing. i'm 

looking for signs of something new, something overdue, 

but all i see is complacent normalcy. an unusual icicle here 

and there but otherwise a normal february landscape. this 

does not fit. the arctic air mixed with the sub-zero temps 

combined with clouds producing precipitation all point to 

white puffy flakes. i'm ready for winter to be over but i'm 

also ready to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of a frosted landscape. 

all the normal is upside down and i'm still adjusting. the wind 

fretfully howls outside my window, but not to decorate trees 

with snow ornaments. what if everything i used to distract me 

is no longer at hand? He makes everything beautiful in His 

own time...can i wait for that? is it snowing yet? will it ever?

time and tide

you built sandcastles

though we never made it to the sea

fantastical dream palaces

I decorated with driftwood

pieces of feathered hopes and rocky dreams

a dash of seaweed possibilities

the ocean echoed with joy

a royal fanfare chorus

and the sun smiled down

until the tide came in

I watched the castles dissolve

in an instant as if they'd never been

you went away too

leaving barely a ripple in your wake

I shook my head with dry eyes

perhaps you meant more

than I would care to admit

as the waves keep breaking

jots and tittles

i leave little papers around

reminders of things to do

or thoughts that stick and burn

i reuse the back of an envelope

or one of a million notepads

torn-off strips of forgotten letters

the lists find the waste basket

but the quotes and notes linger

until one day i've forgotten why

i can no longer feel the impact

like the memory of your touch

your fingerprints will fade away

tomorrow i'll make a new memo

the hour hand belies indelibility

and a thousand scars will heal

though i stroke their painful tracks

flinching at the occasional twinge

the completed list grows surely

sometimes quickly sometimes slowly

as clear as my scratches on a page

is my heart hiding or healing today

as i ponder another might-have-been

a little memory left lying around

wondering if it'll ever be carved in stone