Hwy 95 near Lake Havasu Arizona

Wupatki Arizona

Birch

Arizona

Persimmon

Bougainvillea

Nonstop

It came to be
not suddenly
but oh so slowly
that no one noticed
life constructed
inside round heads
filled with cycles
as hands moved
around
on digital clocks
disguised
yet known
to be unreal
and eyes closed
and light switches
flicked
out there
sight unseen
stars moved
around the night sky
we slept
dreaming dreams
that meandered
like long country roads
in sunshine
and shade
beneath
tall oak trees
beside river runs
and beyond
grass green hills
soon to dissolve
as day breaks again
eyes open
lost
in the cycles
of the
make
believe
world.

Touchstone

The day broke
and fingers spoke
the computer aglow
the site was there
for all who cared
a touchstone
to start each day
with memories
of truths
so long ago spoke
and still
kept alive
at the break
of each day.

The Notebook

He pulled the key from his pocket
to lock the door before leaving
but the key
no longer fit
no matter how hard he tried
the night was getting late
reluctantly
he departed
the door left unlocked
later it rained
then the clouds parted
the black sky
revealed stars
so many that even
a passing fox took notice
for an instant
and inside the house
memories filled the rooms
so much so
that even a moth took notice
before scared away by
a daddy longlegs
the night passed
days passed
years passed
then during one summer
a young boy discovered
the house
and discovered the door
unlocked
and inside he found
notebooks
filled with words
and drawings of stars
in the far room
a telescope
and outside
the wind picked up
for it was time
to leave
then after more
than a half century
an old man gazed again
at the notebook
with the drawings
of stars
and with pencil in hand
he slowly connected
the dots
and before morning
he discovered
his way
back home.

Song of Life

I’ve seen the rocky landscape
of Mars
with those curious blue sunsets
and can only imagine
the silence
when outside my window
birds sing
and I wonder
can a billion stars
have not one more rock
that circles around
twittering
with songs
of life?

Remember

It was late
too late
but that was
only the beginning
as he sat
in the chair
on the porch
warm breeze
darkness fell
and he thought
of nothing
that he could
remember
except that
he burst
into tears
while moths
fluttered about
the porch
light.

Silence

The journey was about to begin
a final step
and then the forever unknown
where life is not
in vast space
filled with total silence
but for life
with noise
made sacred
by twisting and curling
tongues
and tight-stretched
drums
that dwelled on a speck
of dust
from a star
surrounded
by quiet
and he packed his bags
with all the noise he could gather
for the journey
into silence
would take
forever.