Full Tank

Thirty-one pounds of warm fuel
Sleeps in my arms.

Winner

Waves collapsing
Shoreline eroding
So ourselves

Fumes

Squeeze me;
Find me dry.
Whatever may have filled me has leaked out through
Whatever holes may have been and
Whatever holes may have been made.

Some music echoes and resonates,
But not beautifully.

Warm Earth

In the farthest corner of our back yard there is a fresh grave ringed with white stones. A friend lays there. The truest of friends, one who was steadfast in the most difficult of times and who never asked anything in return. I hope the gratitude, the flowers, the tears, and the love with which we laid him to rest reached him, and turned the cold earth warm.

Haunted

The ghosts came out tonight.

They crept inside me. They built walls inside my heart and tied my stomach into knots.

They directed my dreams. They cast themselves as heroes and villains clothed in the costumes of my memories. They wrote a script of my fears and desires and produced a dark comedy of fact and fiction, then left me alone to sort it out when I woke up.