and so now, we enter something new

one year ago

over oatmeal in the morning,
we sat close so our knees touched

and in your truck, i held your arm
as the mountains flew past

or, as we flew past the mountains

today

you kiss me goodbye as i head out the door
and though it is quick, it remains
tender

i make dinner in the skillet,
burning my thumb

you bring me ice
and clean up the dishes

and so now, we enter something new

-A

Advertisements

september 29, 2017

here, today
 
and yesterday, as well
 
i have decided that
i know
 
and then i step through the doors
and see her,
wrinkled skin
eyes sunken, gaze solemn
head held up by the palm of her
gnarled hand
 
what do i know about anything, really?

it is not enough to
eat and
walk and
repeat the same
motions
 
there is meaning
in the way we
move through
spaces
 
tired and lonely
alert, unafraid

if i could
lift
the weight of
her suffering for
one moment
 
if i could
ease
the burden of
her pain for
one instant
 
if i could
ask
a question
and listen
without
speaking
 
i think i would
know better
than i did
before
 
-A

A Different Morning After

Morning in an unfamiliar place.
I recognize my bed and I know
Who he is but we’ve never been here
Before. Of course I am awake first.

Panic attack behind a shut door.
Now this is a place I’ve been before.
My face in the mirror won’t say why
I can’t just move one day at a time.

Joan Didion on my bedside shelf.
Painting of my soul above my bed.
Last night he saw only my body,
But this room speaks volumes about me.

Back in bed as he begins to stir.
I move away as I wonder if
He solely remembers how I taste.
But he grins and says, “The White Album.”

-L

Color Palette

I see you in earth tones:
green when you round the corner on the trail in front of me,
brown when you pick me up again clean and fresh from a day in the sun,
gray when you move in close and shine your hungry eyes into mine.

and I know that I am the deep purple of twilight
shining with stars yet murky with shadows.

but I think the day and the night,
like the sun and the moon,
are better when they blend together
as dusk and dawn.

-L

friendship

once, i remember, and will not soon forget
the filthy car he had to start with a spoon

driving me home to the cabin one night,
i am throwing up all over the car floor,
all over my feet

and when she said,
“to love someone is to feed their spirit”
i think i understood
that i have been loving wrong
all these years

in my bones lately,
i ache for green, wet earth
that stains the bottoms of my feet
that lives under my fingernails
that offers light in the form of
decay

once, singing on the concrete steps,
people pass by
and we gather our stray dollars and nickels
for a 6-pack of pbr

years later, you tell me one morning
that you have a problem to name
in the bottle of wine and
eight beers you drank last night

and once, singing in a quiet pizza place
she steadies my hands before we sing, together
“i’m so lonesome i could cry”

scattered, i find myself in the desert
but pieces of me float around
stretching from the potomac river
to the rolling green hills
and all the way to the high valley
surrounded by rocky peaks

and all the places in between

so as i walk back and forth to and from
the mailbox each day
in my loneliness i remind myself what
she once told me

“to love someone is to feed their spirit”

-A

Waxing Crescent

The weekend after the eclipse
there is a crescent moon above your head
that sinks behind the roof of the bar
as you talk with wild eyes about
how a full moon on the ocean
lights up the sea like day
even erasing the stars.

Like that flood of light you describe,
you are new to me
and you are shining into places
that have been in shadow for a while.

-L