My patina’s worn
next to sliding
skin touches;
youth on display
signal the intimacy
of the lightly burdened.



How charming is
The posy in your pocket
The curl of auburn
Nestled in your locket
Your smiles at
Yellow daises and daffodils
By the meadow’s little rill
Which will run a hundred days
As long as your laughter plays
And promises
You’ll stay.

Out of Touch

Is it selfish of me to never want to meet you again
So that I can always recall your youthful face
Shining gold and oblivious under the sun
To think you are with friends
Drinking beer in the twilight
Sitting on the church’s stone steps
Recalling me with fondness
And remembering the easy smiles
We gave each other

Time and Mortality

The youth knows only summer
And plays and frolics through the golden time
The man knows the fall and winter
And tries to smile as he prepares
The old one knows the seasons will pass
And cycle and pass farther than he can live
The world continues on long after we are gone
The wise mind finds comfort in this
And the child, under the weathered skin
Fears death

14 to 18

An old song on the radio
Recalls to me that summer spent
Gathering papers and stapling packets
Eating pizza on late Wednesday nights
Figuring out the logistics of the storage room
The knowing look of our boss and teacher
Our last day together picnicking
On the green of the park
And my own amusement teaching her
How to feed the pigeons