Noon Sun

Friend arrived with noon --

spritz of light from the East.

We strolled down the road and had us a feast

of words and laughter and common ground,

roots of likeness struck deeply, still new ones found.

Friend left again but the glow remains

to rekindle life's fire when spirit wanes.

Nameless

Body still bewildered

after all these years,

tissues thick

with unshed tears,

the swollen salts

of pain. 

Cells,

frantic and depleted,

thrashing off-course,

old pathways

steamrolled: 

High adrenalin,

in its wake,

leaving some cells

flattened

while scrambling the codes

of others,
replacing person
with nameless anguish. 

Comfort,

an unsolved

mystery.

Evasion

Evasion is a strange animal --

beside a lie, not as colorful.

Evasion is more like a gauzy mist

flitting this way and that with an agile twist.

He can't disappear, for he was never quite here;

nor was he ever fully there.

He's several places and nowhere at once;

to pursue him is like chasing air.

Evasion wants nothing from anyone --

except to be left alone.

So, if you come calling, don't be surprised

if  Evasion says he's not home.

The Void

And they know not

how you waited

in that dim room

so long.

They know not 

what it is

to be gutted

of song . . .

to have silence enshroud you,

dread's grip so tight,

no stars,

no love,

no "Good morning,"

no "Good night."

Just blackness and gloom

outside of the room,

and fright that encased you

like an oversized tomb.

This they cannot

know.

Art

Sweetheart staunchly cut her bangs,

spiky roof on her forehead now hangs

crooked and quirky, all little-girl style,

her dear handiwork -- and beneath it,

bright smile.

As It Is

No privileged view have I

but nature, sun, and sky.

In truth, I know so little.

Doors open and close;
when they close, I cry --

Sad punchline to each riddle.

A Separate Space

In times of crisis,

feelings can elude me

and I must watch from my head,

knowing for months or years

the gravity of what has unfolded,

benumbed in silence while others emote

grandly . . .

and I wonder why I

can't.

But later,

when present is past

and the drowning hubbub has ceased,

in swoops the enormity of the truth --

all the more striking against a subdued backdrop --

unlocking all of the feelings that rightly belong to it,

spreading its wings

wide

to catch my flowing tears.