Self Esteem

A breath that lingers.

You know the feeling.

Trying to put yourself in place.

Eyes all around.

Until you realize they are not 

looking at you, only at themselves.

Your stare back reveals

you are beyond their touch.

The truth that obviates the need

to worry.

Her

You want to know her,

you long to hear her story.

Whispers as slight as shadows

surround her like moonlight.

It is chance to be near her.
She watches and her lashes dip.
Can you cross the line she's drawn?
Her glass is full, she wears a faint smile.

Will this become a vague recollection? 

A mist of the moment wrapped and shawled,
like an idiom dancing away with itself.
Leaving you to wonder if she was real.

Embers

Time cannot erase true affection.

It is an ember forever glowing.

A radiant warmth of intimacy

nurtured by fond memories.

It only takes an embrace for the

ember to flame, for the fire of

love to rekindle, for the chill of

distance to disappear.

 

I Met A Girl From Calgary

 I met a girl from Calgary who should have

lived in horseback days.

An automobile is her last resort. Her legs

and bike can take her where she wants.

She's been around the world and beyond,

to the places where stories are born.

She is an old soul who can wrangle a mustang,

or unfold the nuance of pen on paper.

Her beauty is her truth, true as the Alberta plains

I met a girl from Calgary and will not

forget her.

For Jane Kubke. The Fairhope Center for 

the Writing Arts December 2022 Writer

in Residence.

In A Blink

As I wonder about the wonder that 

surrounds me, and ponder my place

amidst its ubiquity. My questions

are myriad, the answers elusive.

Maybe that's how it should be. What

comes easy can go away in a blink.

Cattle Trails

I remember the cattle trails of my youth

worn smooth by many hooves and easy

to follow. They were often a road home

from the fishing pond for a barefoot boy.

The cattle had a reason for the paths they

chose, and once chosen they became the

way to traverse the hills and hollows they

grazed. Those narrow threads through the

bahia grass each had a beginning and end,

forks and cross paths. I realize now that

they were teaching me not only about 

cattle, but about who I was and am now.

Autumn Chorus

 Darkness comes earlier, soon

the tree frogs will serenade

the river birch is dropping

golden leaves, the crepe myrtle

as beautiful bare as bedecked

in blossoms, a wren makes one

last search of the maple for an

aphid, nearby an owl calls sadly

Empty Mind

Can it be that I know all

that I have seen and heard

that what I have experienced

is who I am and am not

that a falling leaf can teach what

many scholars disregard

I can be content with an empty mind

or with the knowledge of a sage

to desire one above the other

is to be unknown to one's self