rehabilitation center…

rehabilitation center

i suppose
you’d find it hard
to believe
that
at my age
i can 
easily
climb
to
my treehouse
but
i can
and
do
it’s where
i go
to be alone
with
my thoughts
trying to
make sense
of
the senseless
or
finish a dream
that
i didn’t want
to end
i’ve been going there
for years
whenever life
becomes chaotic
or
just too depressing
for words
i go there
for
a little
r&r
now
if for some reason
you can’t recall
your childhood
treehouse
or
hiding place
you may want
to increase
your cognitive load
and
reconstruct it
you’d be surprised
how much
magical healing
is
still there

 

 

change of state…

change of state

our lives
are sometimes ruled
by inertia
events occur
because
they were set
in motion
years ago
and
we chose
not
to stop
going in
what we knew
was
the wrong
direction
such decisions
leave
the bitter taste
of
what if
lingering
in
our thoughts
especially
as we grow older
gradually
slowing
to
a stop

 

 

fellow travelers…

fellow travelers...

so here we are
standing in the middle
of the road
not sure how
we all got here
but
i know
this doesn’t
end well
some people
are busy
on their iphones
or
ipads
others
wander off
the road for awhile
traveling
or
working
on one thing
or
another
but
everyone
returns
to the road
i must admit
available time
has
not
until recently
been
a factor
in
my decisions
and
i suspect
the rest of the folks
on this road
are
the same
otherwise
why would we all
be
standing
in
the middle
of
the road

 

 

i can remember…

i can remember...

the old man’s smile
has not changed
over the years
tho it comes
less often now
he spends his days
repairing an old boat
that surely
will never sail again
nor will he ever be able
to handle her at sea
yet he continues to love
as only lovers could understand
for though what is remembered
can never be as it was before
the love
has not changed
and
he still remembers

 

 

saudades do rio…

saudades do rio...

slow shadow dancing
the streets
of
rio
where
promises have died
and
dreams are just graffiti
scrolled across
a church wall
a heart’s sadness
plays
from a mandolin
while
a guitar offers
chords
of hope
both
know the tune
all too well
how
love fades
and
lovers lose
what love
they had
all
that is left
is
slow
shadow dancing