like many days,
the sun rose and five birds
sent a loud protest
to the neighbor.
I remembered your shine
and reached back for my
favorite lines
to reuse them,
love them, fear them,
make them immortal…
The dream is real.
We held hands on a swing
and were both younger
than the sun on the outside.
Deep, deep within,
parts of us had aged right
along with it.
I missed the friend you’d become
but still have the friend you couldn’t
The heart opened and threw up
all over the floor
black charcoal spinning
until you wouldn’t answer the door.
I chalk up my obsessiveness
leading to that month
to intuition.
I never slept without calling you
never woke up without dialing
yet once again you were far from your door.
I won’t ignore transitions,
like brilliant but fading stars
that pretend they have the
corner on happily ever after.
We have to say goodbye
and whenever I think of that
I think of you
spinning through subconscious
an undeniable favorite,
everyone could see.
I’ll write of your death and
raise you on the highest throne
woven of sunflowers
and I won’t at all feel guilty.
Everyone deserves the highest throne
Drumsticks protrude from
beneath the huge leaves of yours
and the rusted twisted truck is at the bottom
you don’t need it anymore,
but couldn’t get rid of it
because in this new state,
you still want memories of
the 90’s
and the childhood that came before.
I ask my poetry to quit babbling like a brook beneath
your feet
but it knows that path
and knows
we will never leave.