My patina’s worn
next to sliding
skin touches;
youth on display
signal the intimacy
of the lightly burdened.
Tag: youth
Innocence
hiding in the shadow
of a boat bleached
by summer sun
a boy thinks only
of winning his game
of hide-and-seek
dreaming, he finds
a thrilling warmth
in abandoned wood
Charming
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.
Precipice
On the precipice she dances
Red umbrella in the rain
Sure that she would fly
If ever she were to fall
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
Upon the Branch
The wings of youth believe that they might fly forever
But time washes away the shore
And stirs the longing for a companion
And stirs the longing for home and nest
There is joy too, to roost upon the branch
And see the sunset sink to night, instead of chasing it
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
Dragon’s Fire
Over the reeds, sigh the wind
A nostalgic song of seasons past
When we walked hand in hand
And scurried up the snow peaks
In the winters of our youth
When even the cold was a delight
And our breaths wreathed
Around us like dragon’s fire