THE DRY EARTH
I buried you
under years of dry earth
but I marked your grave
so I can find it later
when I’m ready
when I have time
to fall into your grave
and be buried with you
there under the dry earth
holding you again
till what’s left of you
the memory of you
and my tears float me
to the surface
or my anger claws
through earth and rock
leading me back to the sun
however long it takes
more than this day
or the next
so I drive by
I haven’t forgotten
where I left you
how to find you
and one day
we will meet again
when I and grief
into the dry earth
gravity keeps me tethered to you
my upside-down twin, sole to sole,
both pointing skyward, yelling
“this way is up!” so sure
mirth floats us free, so
laughing we can find each
other and know, soul to soul,
there is no up or down
A FIXED GAZE
What happens when we die?
When the sun can’t wake us,
though it tries?
When the cold inside spreads,
and that odd expression
freezes on your face?
What happens then?
Is it the end? Finally free.
Or do I become we and fly
back to a bluer sky?
Not so heavy anymore.
Not so sure of the answers.
All the questions changed
in the blink of an eye
and a fixed gaze.
IN THE WINTER OF MY LIFE
I hold tight the door with one hand,
just enough for cold to slide in
and snow to
sidle past, then die at my feet.
I won’t let
life tug the handle from my grasp,
my soul to the world. I hold tight,
just enough for breath to escape,
inhale and set the locks again.
When I look at you, my heart aches,
So I don’t look at you. I look
Past you. Past us. An unfocused
Gaze works best to filter what I
Don’t want to see. It’s easier
This way, isn’t it? Since it takes
The edge off. Before I mistook
You for The One, I had no trust
In love. I let you change that by
Pretending not to see we were
Fooling ourselves. I wonder why
I can’t give up this easy blur.
FELT IN A DREAM
I never knew this kind of love existed.
Or how badly I need it, more broken than
ever, but in a different way. Not broken
by hurt feelings, and hard times, and great losses.
Broken in the way that makes you forget
you’ve forgotten who you really are or that
this other love exists. Is existence.
Is this love something I’ve had but resisted?
Am I made of it too, not just you? And can
you tell me who I am? So much left unspoken.
I feel it only when a dream crisscrosses
life and death, this love I haven’t found here yet.
I’m looking in the wrong places, aren’t I? At
people and things, all tension and resistance,
when all I really need are waking dreams that
remind me life’s journeys aren’t about distance.
BECOMING LIFE PURE
Just a dream I think, still not believing
It wasn’t something more. The warmth was real.
And you were healthy, whole, and young again,
Larger than life, yet more fully alive
In a way that’s hard to describe. Life pure.
You didn’t speak, didn’t fight my grieving,
Just put your arms around me, let me feel
What you’ve become: The calm, the peace, and then
The love, unlike anything here that I’ve
Ever called love. It was strong and secure,
Supple and whole. Life, love, interweaving
In a way that’s hard to describe, to heal
Things I didn’t know were broken. Now when
I think of life and love, how both survive,
I know that I’ve forgotten so much more
About who I am, who we are. Alive,
Waking and in dreams, becoming life pure.