Distance

an old farmers sink-
her mind miles away from the
blood in the carpet
–
back garden soil-
no amount of soap
makes her feel clean

under summer stars-
in the fading moonlight she
could almost be you
–
iron skies-
across the piazza
you become the crowd

vultures overhead-
circling waiting before
feasting on the dead
–
red skies-
a tempest
at our door

soaring red-tailed hawks-

below veiled skies verdant trees

emerge from the mist

–

between the clouds

and the cut grass-

a wounded crow

shadows of small flags-
with a bouquet of flowers
she runs to your grave
–
mourning doves-
the young man
on the mantle

grime covered windows-
watching the rain absently
stirring black coffee
–
street lights-
shadows of rain
on my paper napkin

covered in lichens-
a tall and stately oak tree
sheds its dead branches
–
thin mountain air-
all my baggage
suddenly empty

the low eastern sun
resplendent in green and gold
dances with the moon
–
wind chimes-
Sol and Luna
pas de deux

life gets in the way-
in my haste I neglected
to say I love you
–
shifting skies-
one simple
phone call

an ocean of sleep-
the receding tide leaves a
tangled mat of dreams
–
dandelion seeds-
bare whispers
of my mind