Bridges, Roads, Rivers 

“They’ll never make it!”
on the path to the bridge
under the magic stars.
Never give up,
never listen to the words
one small starling said when
his confidence failed him,
draining slowly to the end
of the Nile–
left decumbent, deserted,
chasing after floating
seeds in the wind.
The bridges will crumble,
the roads impassable.
The prayers will come,
perhaps the world–
Never listen to them
when they say
it cannot.

Spirit House

Far down below the willow roots
and breeze,
someone left their soul.
We waited for the full moon
before asking for rights and
but the first night,
we climbed into every nook
and called the light in.

Somewhere below the yellow moon
and a bird’s wing
someone left their soul.
We waited for the sun to rise high
before we stirred,
ventured into unexplored pockets
of tree trunks so grand,
someone left their soul below
for us to find.

On the Side

sat on rubbermaid benches
fueling the desires to bring back
old loves
And cry, not ones self to sleep
but to cry over broken bottles
beneath the tone of rocket ships
launching from the bedroom.
You could never claw into
stowaway zones–
the insurmountable smell
of used clothing
stopped you.