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I'm thinking it's about forgiveness,
Even if, even if, you don't love me anymore.
- Don Henley, Heart of the Matter

Driving Through

Changing direction, suddenly, is never easy,
There's always the danger of tipping over.
I swerved when I met you, took a parallel path,
It was a beautiful, sensual, but rocky road.
Then we hit a dead end, barriers and everything.
U-turn is necessary, but I stalled;
Flooding the engine in my frenzied reaction.
Thought a mechanic was required,
Just needed sitting still for awhile.
Seeking a more autonomous road now,
Put the top down, enjoy the scenery.
Hopefully, there'll be a "last chance" sign.


The Turning Point

Bizarre headlines about losing energy
Beautifully sunny spring day spent indoors
Joni Mitchell croons in the background
Did any of us really survive 1968?
Wind chimes clacking the coming storm
Dark clouds in the distance, looming closer
Traffic into this sleepy beach town is steady
Streaming until we must explode
Spend your dollars and go home lest we sink
My untidy clutter threatens to undo me
Can still find myself, though, most times.

Emotional headlines do undo me for a time.
I entered this roller coaster of life involuntarily
But have chosen to stay on the ride
My integrity is in tack, as is my loneliness.
Night sky's breeding looming clouds
The storm in my heart is more developed
Another loss to carve in my heart
Too many such losses these Neptune square days
But my Knight of Cups is still at large
Can still find myself, though, most times

Headliners for a night, laughter with delight
Bawdy, cheesy, musical humor echoes to the night sky
Traffic in and out of a hole in the wall
Otherwise employed, closet actors, inspire to play
Pouring hearts into clear skies
Creating bonds that will endure the storms
And dry the tears of disappointment
Bringing the roller coaster to a moment of pause
Shining light on facets of my soul
Long dulled with disuse, freed again
Can still lose myself, at last.


Mona Lisa

Careful remembrances, thoughtful selection,
Carefully guarded levels, still tender,
Healing at a painfully slow rate.
There's no escape from the emptiness;
Taking cautious steps, slowly, steadily;
Time and distance will save all.

Umbilical-like connection never completely severs;
Clairvoyant tendrils exist as awareness,
Sweet dreams of long conversations.
A pleasant haunting, but not always so,
Anesthetize the pain, laugh and dance,
It'll be back tomorrow in another guise.

Time and journeys continue on,
Must keep pace to see new vistas,
Only want to rest this weary heart.
Looking back fondly from the future,
A melancholy, wicked smile,
Are all that, gratefully, remain.



Gypsy Blues



Love (or something like it)