Song of Morning

Your voice greets me in your absence 
Slow strum of the guitar
as words drift languidly in air
Towards another shore
you have journeyed
Some future day
perhaps I'll see you
waving from the beach

Children of Alice
Voices speaking together
Do this all for her

Hammer & Master

I cannot wield myself
Guide me to the head
The nail i must hammer down
Beat myself until
You lay me to rest
Turn me around
To pull nails from a wall
Helpless
I find myself in you
Forget me when
You don't need me
Hidden here
Useless in this box
Until you need me again

The Eternal Season

Grief stains like red wine spilt

on a white linen shirt.

Loss calculated by

what-ifs and almost-weres.

Eternity, a place

of safe conjecture

for those still running

from Marathon.

A warmth that brings

no comfort

begets a blossoming flower

that endures a lifetime.

A mountain-top in Winter,

A desert in Summer,

Branches in Fall.

Spring…

when?