Wednesday, September 23, 2009


I missed someone.

I regretted something.

I realized a loss.

I accepted a change.

I wanted to apple pick.

I described a mistake.

I wished for company.

I drove in silence.

I forgot a name.

I considered a reunion.

I realized an old dream.

I kissed a familiar love.

I made a new promise.

I felt butterflies.

My mind is a hunter, my spirit is a nomad,
and love is a dammed stream.
But this summer was a washout,
The currents are building no doubt,

And winter frost is never too cold in dreams.

Snow in moonlight. Mittens. Neon lights.
Stillness. Drinking for warmth. Wishing for more.

Driving into indigo mountains.
Fast music. Scarves. One pillow. Shared giggles.