Like hiding places,

Are yours for the keeping.

You wonder off

To that safe little corner–

You move,

Because someone has to,

Has to climb up

Through the roots of your mind,

Break the core of your heart.

Images, they come and go.

But time remains the same–

Just as my memories of you:

A boy still lost in some hideaway

Of a soul long forgotten.

Maybe a dream, a dream like this,

will lead you out…

April 5, 2012


Moving In

I can’t think

of a more comfortable place

to stay while looking

for that new home outside of me:

a high, lofted ceiling

with sunlight hanging off the edges;

a 1980’s glass-top table

covered with lace cloth mom made

just for me;

the wide, open windows

that look out over nothing,

over everything in the old,

sand-filled courtyard,

its folding chairs and small bushes.

It feels like my insides,

how I do not always like them–

but it’s home, for now.

April 11, 2014