Fall's good

A cloudy spring:
stuff happens. Fall's good
for wine, friendship.

10.12
s.d.

A reminder

This night
illusions
far away

Tomorrow
sun ascends
a day closer

Hold it there
I'm present
to dance

7.12
s.d.

Coping with Rejection

 I.
Even a duck loses
feathers, sometimes.

 II.
The subtle stink of depression
slipped silently under the bedroom door.
I focused on emails, writing,
putting off packing. I hardly
noticed it, like I missed the fog
sneaking in from the Bay.

 III.
When reality diverged from sketched dreams,
I could not cry. Instead,
I swallowed. Perhaps lasagna
or the laundry room beep
will choke me.

 IV.
The optimist's view:
each sentence is a barb poking out
through this translucent skin.
To anyone who squints,
my guts are visible,
soft and flickering.
To be thus vulnerable is to build a story,
an adamantine armor that relishes
the sunlight at the expense of gamma rays.

 V.
Among moldy table scraps:
fetid lettuce
with reddish-brown, speckled crust.
Everyone lets it alone; it's
increasingly acrid.

 VI.
I enjoy time travel, at least I think
it would teach me something.
(I'm ethical when it comes to time travel,
I won't bet on Giacomo or play the Dow.
My footprints are scant. Barely noticeable,
I won't shake up the world.)
An answer is nestled in the mountains
of India, the glitter of Manhattan, or
elsewhere between space and time.
I'd like to discover it. I think I would
time travel if it was possible, if I knew
I wouldn't lose the question.

 VII.
I'm glad I told
you how I felt.
If, when you're old,
the latent fear
does fall away
and crust does melt:
then give a call
on any day
of any year
at all.

10.11
s.d.

bonnet stripes

bonnet stripes ahead:
heart and engine race
it's not her

10.11 (revised)
s.d.

tumbling

double black diamond:
tumbling downwards through snowdrifts
never meant for us

12.11
s.d.