solitary song

i turned a corner suddenly

the streetlight wasn't there

i listened as the summer breeze

spoke laughter in my ear

not knowing that the hours past

were full of empty toil

when winter winds come soon

the autumn fruit to spoil

year on year of working

a quest for wealth or fame

days not worth remembering

and they forgot my name

i looked in vain for glowing

to see the way to take

my path is not so clear

the choice is mine to make

the keys beneath my fingers

a lonesome song do sing

the words a melody

that means a different thing

i play alone in darkness

obscurity my friend

and sometimes hear the whisper

of how my story ends

uncertain times

pieces of color patched together

noises and horns distracting voices

things i forgot to do

the morning is over the day almost gone

maybe tomorrow something will come

i'll remember what

items in order on small scraps of paper

litter the table and fill up the basket

lists i should get done

thirty seconds a drop and another one passes

videos of humour and other folk's lives

maybe i can skip that

closing my eyes as the summer sun sets

wondering if the road leads anywhere soon

i'd like to know

empty long days interspersed with flashes

moments of beauty i'm caught unawares

somehow i'll make it

folding my fingers to see just a glimpse

perspective beyond these restless hours

i'm almost there

maybe what lasts isn't measured by numbers

currency of legacy in different weights

things i hope to see

feeling the heavy settle into my chest

while lightly i tread through uncertainty

now i'm letting go

Adieu St Stephens

the winter sun glows kindly

through coloured windows soft

panes testify to ages past

130 winter suns come and gone

the dust shivers on sturdy beams

as the organ plays one last song

temporary braces still standing strong

as voices pass into memories

who will remember the passion

pews retired to halls and gardens

partitioned rooms where choirs sang

altars whisper of vows forgotten

the eve of the end casts shadows

can an empty space hold pain

once full of hope and life

now reduced to begging favours

the door shuts slowly firmly

what fills one and not another

keep the lamp stand in the midst

bring your first love home

this new year

it sits like a blank page before me

this new year

hopes and fears are in the wings

shrouded by mist

a thousand options crowd my way

where will I go

the path I take is hidden now

someday seen

I waver between joy and dread

what comes next

many years have come and gone

a mixed bag

I take up my pen to write the start

this new day

come triumph or tragedy I know

not alone

the deep moment

who knows the light 

that fills your eyes 

when through the trees 

by moon surprised

or how the lines

that grace your lips 

grow deeper as

each cup you sip

whose voice can wake

your sleeping soul 

or make you laugh 

without control 

who hears you when 

the day is done 

the ups and downs 

the race you’ve run 

the shallow steps 

you take each day 

add up to much 

deep in your way

who finds you there 

and holds you close 

content to be 

who loves you most 

scars

my finger traces the lines 

broken flesh sewn together

signs of healing never forgotten

no longer smooth

skin once soft and supple

now split by a jagged line

interrupted peace roughly torn

but stronger now

a bit of broken glass

a curious toddler's reach

now a white streak on a pink palm

remember when

longer wider shows one

tracing the shoulder blade straight

marks of a surgeon's skill and care

diseases battled

hidden from my keen touch

deeper lie the unseen breaks

whispered words that burn like fire

just yesterday

I marvel looking close

between the cracks I see now

a light come shining through my scars

becoming glory

anon

your face across the crowded room

unexpectedly there

a peaceful walk among the trees

where I expected storms

my heart leaps I move to greet

a thought stops me anon

I am mistaken

like the warm sun on my face

comforting like a lazy summer day

until the chill autumn winds

belie its pleasant dream

something in a stranger's eyes

the echo of your gaze

I miss you

could I stop the shortening days

the mix of love and loss

season following empty season

without you near to me

my smile like fading daylight

greets each passing visage

masking lingering heartache

as years stretch on and on

early blooms

each petal like a drop of blood 

floats gently on the surface 

rocking to a silent song 

in water’s soft embrace 

the edges brown as moments pass 

death steals the bright away 

and though the sun shines bravely on 

the sky begins to grey 

alighting on one rusting drop

a bumblebee reposes

until the weight tips the scales 

and the water overflows it

one by one through time and chance 

the liquid conquers all

‘til all that stays are memories 

of a blossom that did fall 

from sea to shining sea

Yesterday the Pacific sea left a sand dollar, not quite round, resting on the sands of the Oregon coast. Here begins its journey, where golden beaches lapped by ice-blue waters give way to towering tree-lined cliffs. In the coming forty days it will traverse the expansive nation from state to state, the journey of an imperfect sand dollar. What adventures will it find along the way before it comes to rest on the shores of the Atlantic? The empty shell of a life that’s past, will it find a new existence in faces full of memories? All the while its simple beauty may bring a smile to hearts far and near.

The journey begins…

down the trail

the shadows are deep on the path ahead 

no voices are heard in the deep midday gloom 

but I press on for the trail must be traveled 

the narrow steps forward between me and home 

I hear not a sound save the hum of a fly and 

the scent of pine needles tickles my nose 

I drink in the forest enjoying the cool 

of the tall prickly sentinels that hush 

the brash sunshine before me behind me 

the way twists and turns and trees without number 

march mile upon mile as mind mind flits far 

I shiver a moment and sidestep some scat 

wondering now how solo I am really 

could the trunks become glass how near 

would I see that cougar or that bear observing 

my way then a breeze comes again just a sigh 

like an echo I remember the shadows 

so like the veil and could all fade away 

alone I would never be

hindsight

at just this moment a light comes at once 

bursting and soft from the corner of my eye 

obstructing my view and between yesterday 

and always i can see right now with clarity 

beyond tomorrow with all the what ifs and 

maybes floating down like the house of cards 

they are as in wonder i glimpse what lay down 

the fork in the road knowing the dark thorns of 

heartache and loss grew there as sure as if 

i had walked it though i chose the other way 

that i thought might be forsaken and at this 

same moment i find it was actually paved 

with roses and i find gratitude arising for 

the wounds i did receive that brought growth 

and no regrets and while i miss some of the 

yesterdays i know always is close and i wrap 

right now around me as i lift my hands to the light

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

in the sunlight

i've never counted life in years

moments like pearls on a strand

time doesn't pass it lingers

alive in each encounter i hold

fully here yet missing in a memory

i wander with eyes wide shut

looking around the next corner

for something i lost but never had

surrounded in the sunshine with wings

a thousand butterflies on fire

my life is a story someone is telling

the next page will not turn

i must await the reader's cue

so much glorious heartbreak in a word

ahead the light is shining brightly

the next moment will be silver-lined

grey eventide

the light has changed as the grey sky almost 

imperceptibly takes on a shimmer as if the sun 

no one saw is yet gleaming a farewell to the day 

without rain and a haunting angst steals through 

the air as the road bends and the trees shiver 

almost as if one could reach beyond this moment 

and capture something lost or maybe forgotten 

though it seems that i can always remember what 

he said when i least expect it like a grey day with 

barely a hint of blue it still takes me by surprise 

with a pang like the unexpected twinge of a scar 

long-healed the remembering while painful reminds 

me that i am alive and i survive in spite of the pieces 

i've left behind and while his words might whisper 

through the air at such a twilight moment when i'd 

rather think about tomorrow and the coming spring 

i can lay each word back down and turn my face to 

catch the last rays of a day that was new and one i did 

my best to live well and find the hope to keep heart in 

a life that has grey days with the hint of glorious hues 

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