WHEN IS IT?

There are many lasts of the same thing,
many goodbyes to the same people,
and they are all bittersweet—
good that they have
come, sad that they will
not come again. But each one
becomes less and less bittersweet,
and is just what it is.

We walk in the desert
and take in its vastness and
our loneliness. We can hear
the sunset, the stars
are brighter. No one will surface
until far, far on.

(4 April 2006)

IMPRESSIONS

The barges sit ghost-like
on the grey bay. I stand on the corner
here on the mountain and look at them.
Something tells me
this will all turn out to be
just a dream. Turning to the left, my eye traces
the graceful arc. I listen
for what it is telling me.

Out west
there is still a little light
left in the sky. Everyone waits
for the tide to rise, but I won’t.
You don’t know who loves you
or hates you. You will eventually,
though, as you will many other things.

(4 April 2006)

BETWEEN FLATS

My group splits up, I go
my own separate way.
I listen to the hum of the city
beneath my feet and everywhere the
evening lights can be seen. Perhaps I am not
who I thought I was. There are still
many miles on the road ahead,
and maybe somewhere,
some time,
I will walk with you.

(4 April 2006)

SCHOLARS, PRAYERS AND WORK

The run rises
behind me, reflected
in the office window.

Like diamonds,
drops of dew gather
on the tip of every blade of grass.

Some day,
we will learn to love others
when we smile at them.

(24 February 2006)