Broken Hearts

One day

When ready

I’ll tell you a story.

A story of a boy

Who never stopped running.

I’m just not ready

To break your heart.

The volume of the moon

I was never ready

but always willing,

unable to refuse

the volume of the moon.

Morning. Key West. 2020

that old dog bark

A sweet chorus of birds

lingers in the air, as

the morning wains on

expectantly

that old dog bark

rings heavy on my mind.

Pulling the covers overhead, thinking

the day can—and most certainly will—wait for me today.

My feet are sore

and my heart is silent.

I’ll stand when I’m ready, till then

I’ll snore along till noon.