Solstice

The week went slow, the year flew by

from the end of June back to last July,

when I lost my cool, swimming underneath

every heavy thing in oppressive heat, saying,

“Keepin’ bright bright bright.”

Winding back a double-decade past,

to the afternoons when I knew you last,

me without my shoes, you without your shirt,

river-walking tough, like the stones don’t hurt, singing,

“Keepin’ bright bright bright.”

And that day stretches out to the edge of night,

then it turns about, now we’re losing light,

we can see in the dark with our sunset sight,

we delay the dusk, keepin’ bright, bright, bright.

Wheels Roll Home

There’s a point, way out, past the present tense,

where our weeks away make a lot less sense.

But for now, we work with our time apart,

with a tired mind, with a hungry heart

For when your wheels roll home,

when your wheels roll home,

when your wheels roll home,

no more you roam.

Don’t go before you leave,

every second we got, we gotta make believe

that you’ll be right back, like you never left,

like you mailed yourself to your return address

In a self-stamped envelope,

you’ll revolve ‘round the globe,

But when your wheels roll home,

when your wheels roll home,

when your wheels roll home,

no more you roam.

Stubborn Man

I’m a stubborn man with a fickle plan,

given lots of thought, but no attention span.

I can change my mind, turn on a dime,

I can strike me down at anytime.

I’m the only one who can get it done.

Gotta finish this now that I’ve begun,

‘cause I’m the only guy qualified

to fix me up and ossify.

Maybe I'm strong-willed,

settled at a standstill.

Maybe I'm headstrong,

iffy, but rarely wrong.

Talk to me without the need

to make your case, to make me see

my overgrown comfort zone.

My narrow mind is mine alone.

Maybe I'm strong-willed,

settled at a standstill.

Maybe I'm headstrong,

iffy, but rarely wrong.

Just One Sec

Do you think you could free me from the man I’ve been?

Do you see me now or do you see me then?

Could you clear my cache, momentarily?

For just one sec, free me from me.

Free me from your limiting ideas of me,

free me from the version you prefer I’d be,

when you grew tall, and I fell short.

Drop injunctions, and clear the court.

Forgive the debt that I've accrued.

For just one sec, free me from you.

I free you from the person I was sure I knew,

I free you from a reputation you outgrew,

I free you from behavior I expect to see,

and my interpretation of history,

‘Cause I boxed you in unconsciously,

and I saw you as I thought you ought to be,

but by loving you imperfectly,

for just one sec, I free you from me.

Volunteer

Traveling on the wind

carrying credentials,

abandoning anything

strangling potential,

Galloping, inhabiting

nothing inessential,

scattering, wondering,

“Am I incidental?”

Sprout here another year, volunteer.

Scavenging, salvaging,

rationing for winter.

It’s challenging, practicing

living like beginners,

But it’s happening, it’s dazzling,

protections start to splinter,

imagining ravishing

springing from within her.

Sprout here another year, volunteer.

It Is What It Is

This is the first day the flowers wilt and fold.

Nothing reverses, aridity takes hold.

The call coulda been answered,

the wall woulda been questioned,

the fall shoulda been prevented,

But it is what it is.

This is the first day our friend is free from pain,

voyaging on, while the rest of us remain.

The call coulda been answered,

the wall woulda been questioned,

the fall shoulda been prevented,

But it is what it is.

Green to Gold

So, summer’s on the outs,

cicadas swim around the house,

crickets clicking down the block,

we are on an early morning walk.

No one’s up, and no cars on the street,

hiding from an unrelenting heat,

sun is climbing out from underneath,

lighting up and roasting tired leaves.

Green to gold, going green to gold.

A breeze blew in, and Autumn came to town,

branches bare, the leaves rest on the ground.

All that summer worked to bud and bloom,

only to be swept up by a broom.

An uninvited frost formed overnight,

by early afternoon, we’re losing light,

now they’re saying two, three feet of snow,

the reading dips to ten degrees below.

Morning’s bright, the ancient ice withdraws,

I take one step and the ground begins to thaw,

tiny grasses spring up ‘round my shoe,

eager bits of green start peeking through.

Seedlings turn to chutes and shoot up high,

thunderclouds hold hostage summer sky,

concrete’s hot with fire it can’t contain,

we sit in front of fans and wait for rain.

And just like that, summer’s on the outs,

cicadas swim around the house,

crickets clicking down the block,

while we are on an early morning walk.

Green to gold, going green to gold.

Porchlight

Anesthesia,

out in the dark, walking through fog,

trying to retrace my steps to God,

shining my light, but my light looks odd,

like it’s walling me in, and I’m thinking,

“If ever untethered, I know you’ll know.”

Synesthesia,

color connects with your wires crossed,

keep me from vanishing at any cost.

Flip on the porchlight if you sense I’m lost,

and we’ll find a way back together.

If ever untethered, I know you’ll know.