Despair

come on swoop down over this one last shore

tell me what it is to fly

what you were flying for

Gone

Were you caught

in the firestorm of a million

conversations

or lost

in a dying admission

because just one thing I can show

and that is I am here                          

without you

alone

Daydream

In the world all grey I 

wanted to feel zephyrs and 

sunrise against 

my face

it looked so warm

it looked so warm

from the other side

The Other Side

There once was a girl.  The saddest girl in the world, because she kept believing.  She thought she was so clever and strong.  She thought she was different.  She thought all of the red lines would lead to one circle that would form a barrier around her forever.  But the red lines didn’t.  They just lead to more red lines.  She can no longer remember the red line she started from.  When she tries to walk backwards nothing looks familiar—all she can see is what is in front of her. 

The boy laying down the red straws does not help her.  He pays no attention to anything other than the red straws, and to placing them on the large, white sheet spread across the middle of the open market.  No one cares about him being there and he doesn’t care about them.  He does not see the girl standing in the middle of all of the red straws, trying to remember where she came from.  Soon there are so many straws leading in so many different directions that she loses hope.  She does not understand the pattern.

Only the boy does.  But to him it is a math puzzle and you either understand it or you don’t.  He is a sort of genius.  He is the one who keeps us all wandering down different lines, so that we never meet.  We must never meet.  We must never speak to each other.  The boy’s job is to keep us all walking on the same sheet, but never at the same place together.   We must always remain lost and alone.  It is a math puzzle.  There is a solution but the boy genius will never open his mouth.  He talks with the red straws.  They tell his story for him.  And it is a beautiful story, in its own way.  A beautiful story of loneliness and loss and of being lost until all wandering ends.

Fare Thee Well

In our graveyard of

convictions

one last night

of fading ambition

your promise on the 

end of my fingertips

and it falls 

it falls

Remnants

“He told me about his brother,” Megan said.  When Andy nodded, she asked him, “Did you know what was going on?”

“Not until the Bergens.  Even then we didn’t know it was him until someone tipped us off that what happened wasn’t some random thing.  But I thought he’d come after me—I never thought in a million years that he’d go after you.”

“Well, he didn’t really.  He was just confused.  He said good henchmen were hard to find.”

Andy laughed bitterly.  “I guess so.”

“It’s not like you can advertise for them.”

“No.”

“But are you going to be all right about the Bergens?  Because it wasn’t your fault.”

Andy’s smile faded.

“Don’t let it ruin your life,” Megan told him.  “They wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“Yeah,” Andy said.  His eyes darted around the room.  “Anyway, don’t worry about me.  You just worry about yourself.”  He paused, jingled his car keys.  “I guess you’ll sell the house.”

“Yeah, but it was time, anyway.  Hopefully it won’t take too long.  A friend of mine who’s an agent says that everything that happened will only make it more attractive to potential buyers.  I guess there are people out there who like houses with a back story.”

Andy shook his head.  “People are strange.”

“Sometimes.”

“Will you stay in town, though?”

“I don’t know.  I have a friend who’s a principal in Madison and they just had a teacher suddenly retire due to illness, so she’s offered me the job.  I think I might take it.”

“Really?”

“That’s right.  Moving forward—it’s the only way.”

Andy shared a halfhearted laugh with her.  “Well, good for you.  I hope it works out.”

“Me, too.”

In the silence that followed Megan wondered again about the cat that Andy had released all of those years ago.  She wondered if he even remembered it now, or if he had moved forward from those memories, too.  “So, anyway,” Andy said, breaking into her reverie, “I just wanted to stop by, because I’ll be heading off to Chicago tomorrow.”

“Does that you mean you’ve made a decision about your job?”

“I talked to my boss when he was here.  We have everything worked out.”

“That’s great,” Meg said warmly.  “I’m sure you did the right thing.”

“Thanks."  He gave his car keys another shake.  "I wish it could have been under different circumstances, but--it was good to see you again.”

“You, too.”

Andy turned for the door.  When he didn't move, Megan waited. “So I guess you’re going to hate me forever, huh?” he said to the wall.

“Oh, no.  Not at all.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“You’ll let me know if you ever need something?”

“Definitely.”

“Good,” Andy said.  He then strode briskly to the door and let himself out of the hotel room.

The Unforgiving Moon

You found my horses running scared

shivering in the wind with

frozen hair

It broke to the touch

as you whispered goodbye goodbye

goodbye...