stasis

Living is what I do
When I’m not thinking of you
I’m often in stasis these days
The sun warms my shoulders
Into feeling less old than
My bark-like skin declares

I spend my days exposed
Like light can appease thirst
And bring life to dried dirt
But it won’t
And I’m left fiddling
With thoughts too belittling
Crumbling last year’s leaves

Branch bared and limb cracked
Waiting for my spine to snap
I keep twisting
Reaching back
To rake up debris from the past
And find a match to light it
Just to keep warm through the night

outlines

A harmless thrill
caused a costly spill
A stain we hide
and secretly reframe
calling it found art
Still we are compelled
every so often to hover above
and read its shape
for omens or meaning
But it only foretells
how time and use
will meld it into the fabric
of the stories we will weave
to cover it
And no one will know
how it shaped them
And how it changed us

the price of preservation

The Swiss are covering glaciers
with blankets to preserve them
from climate change
I’m doing the same
with these towering memories

I forego trampling through
to find evidence
or an artefact
worth treasuring
that erosion could reveal

Perhaps on a better day
I will unveil them
and see their splendour
unworn unsullied
undiminished
by my ruminations

For now I fear even a peek
would cause irreparable damage
And all I would find
would be my own footsteps
circling aimlessly

fishing

So many lines
I’ve baited
and patiently waited
as you snatch
what you need and flee
Never coming close enough
so I can see
if I at least
leave a mark on you.
I’m beginning to conclude
you have no substance
for my hooks to catch
So I’m waiting again
for you to swim back
into my latest trap
A net so fine
it will entwine
all the answers
I cannot find
Dense and hard
enough
to pull
me under
and drown
the hunger
that keeps me
tied to you

bloodletting

I am fixed
in anticipation
denying trepidation
at the next step
that won’t come
until we’re done
with preparations of
aligning expectations
and have found within
a common source
of redemption
to absolve the crime

I am numbed
by your expression
that leaves the impression
of ice on warm skin
You lose form
as I freeze within
I brace for the pain
of the thaw
but it’s only my jaw
that hurts
worse than it should

I am stunned
by the precision
with which you make
your incision
into that part so scarred
and marred
a perfect target
for one looking
to leave no mark

I am struck dumb
steeped of words
to explore
my now hollow core
or express
my distress
at having mutely acquiesced
to this bloodletting

missed

That tree
burning yellow against
a field of bland buildings
greyed dull brown
below a slab of slate sky
I meant to take a picture
but the traffic was too thick
to get a good shot
Its leaves dropped overnight
It now sits stripped ugly
baring my failure
for the seasons to come

poor timing 

I step in too close
and feel my nose crush
against the revolving doors
I was never much good
at double Dutch
or skipping rope
nor holding out
against all hope
My coffee has spilt
over me like guilt
and leaves a stain
on what remains of my dignity
as I fumble to efface
the disgrace of once again
being out of line
and out of time

sky

If I picture my life
as a landscape
You are the backdrop
coloring everything
Yet whether
I cut you out or not
everything continues
moving along
as expected or directed
or not
You affect nothing
but my disappointment
at either
never being able to touch you
Or at how little there is left

playing by the rules

jotNrot

I didn’t have a full scrabble or anything,
yet lots of possibilities to make a darned good high-scoring word.
But the board in front of me
yielded no decent options.
They were all too low-scoring, or two-word legal cheats.
The one or two respectable placements would only open the door to a disparaging loss.
I felt a familiar frustration mounting, that I pushed aside.
It wouldn’t be a game if we could always control the outcome.
Yet losing no matter how good you were, just felt so unfair.
I toyed with the idea of forfeiting,
just not to have to sit through the drawn out end
simply for my friendly opponent’s pleasure.
I couldn’t be that mean.
I added my L-O to the left of a B-E, just under the tripple word score,
forsaking the L-O-V-I-N-G I wanted to place upon the board.

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