Huckleberry Heels

Silence falls like snowflakes

Covering the field

Where birds like statues watch

My huckleberry heels

With frost left underfoot

The hallow ground revealed

Where doe tread light as feather

And sun spill bleeds me home

To understand one’s suffering

To understand one’s suffering

Is to understand our own,

Knowing causes pain—

But still with hope we try

To understand one’s suffering

Is to be on their side, regardless

Of the awful many cuts

Through the tenderness of night—

Their aim is (not) to heal

But still with hope we lie,

To understand one’s suffering(…)

Like fruit picked from a vine.

Walking in the desert of night

For once in this hell of a lifetime

I’m not calling anyone out—

Walking in the desert of night stars

With my own well being

I no longer glance behind—

Finally I realize there is nothing left behind

Nothing that isn’t worth looking forward to—

My soul is clean, my eyes are clear

I no longer cry for those I cannot save—

Saving myself, one step at a time.

December Evening, 2020

Eyes glazed open

Then you wake up

Eyes glazed open

Sleeping by her side

And again, you realize

What’s most important

Now more than ever

And without a doubt

Like the sun, you rise

Possibilities

People need very direct

forms of understanding,

otherwise

the possibilities are endless,

and for most, endless possibilities

aren’t always easy to accept.

Funny card pulled at Stories Bookstore, Silver Lake CA. 2020

Dreams

Isn’t it ironic.

The one place we go together,

we always go alone.

8:30 in New Jersey

The evening air is still—

Black ice it lies in waiting—

Walking with the cold

I watch asphalt exhaling.

If winter had a home—

Or frost a day to rest—

It be within this heart,

It be within this breath.

A story

There’s always a story to tell.

Always,

A story…

To tell—

Our eyes told stories

I’ll always remember that day

And keep it as a reminder—

That day in which you looked my way

And I didn’t have a clue who you were

And you didn’t have a clue who I was

That day in which our eyes told stories—

As to what is most important.

So if and when we lose our way, I know

Together we’ll find ourselves again—

Where eyes can say what words cannot express—

And stories, we, can only tell together.

(miss)Understanding

At some point you just let go,

and that need to be understood

just drifts by the wayside.

Like a dog is a dog, a cat is a cat—

with or without the mustard.