Steelesview

I went there today.
To that little alcove
beside the playground.

It was cold,
and children were playing, laughing,
smiling. Like we would.

I hadn't the time to stop
to soak in each memory
that is held there.

I walked on.

But I remember
that windy night.
We were scared.

Our fears are soaked
into the red bricks
and the heavy doors.

We couldn't defeat them.
And though you held me,
we were blown away in that wind.

I walked on.

Funeral for a Friend

I'm in my Sunday best.

it's raining, 

just like it would 

on an occasion such as this. 

There are no flowers, 

or little candles 

to usher you out,

and no commemorative picture 

of a smiling and eager face. 

There are no sweet poems 

or small speeches, 

no awards, 

no songs, 

just a box. 

Just a hole and some mud

with a shovel at the ready.

And when I look around, 

I don't see anyone else.

It's just you and I my friend, 

like it used to be, 

and though the time is coming 

to tuck you in and cover you up, 

I won't walk away, 

until I'm ready. 

I'm not ready yet. 

Aconite

You weren't my lilac 
cut from the tree
on the eve of summer, 
that I treasure for days, 
smiling like a child. 

You were the winter aconite 
hidden on the bottom 
of the forest floor, 
that I held in my hand 
for at least a little while. 

You caught my eye. 
You were yellow 
like the grin on my face, 
and you were delicate. 
I could strengthen you. 

I held up your beauty 
for a while, in my hands 
like Atlas and the world. 
You were heavy. 
Too heavy. 

I plucked off
all your little petals 
and let you fall 
back to that floor
that I salvaged you from. 


I whispered "he loves me not" 
and walked away. 

Red Herring

I am bent
on writing something
you won't decode.
you never know,
when I will slip in
a little hint,
a little red herring.

I am bent,
on unpredictability
you won't predict.
eat your heart out,
trying to untangle
the threads;
the secret words.

From now on
deciphering me
will not be half as easy
as you make it seem.