you light a match
the flame forgets
I close my eyes
echoes pass through us
I can't tell, is it
a mirror or a door
we are suspended in shapes
that keep on crying

I watch them fly
With grace, so free.
Unburdened by
Prosperity.

No time for entertainment.
Hearts not weighed and balanced against gold bars.
No defendants, and no claimants.
Living in each moment only where they are.

Light enough to lift off.
Strong enough to stand.
Each day is faced,
With strength and grace.
No expectation. Nothing planned.

I watch them perch
With purpose, unknown.
Each one a force
Itself, alone.

No need for supervision.
Making no objects, hoarding no wealth.
Living off of flight and vision.
Living for the flock, and for the self.

Only motivation, sunrise.
Only purpose is to live.
Perhaps thoughtless,
Perhaps unknowing,
Still, it’s wisdom that they give.

A footprint in the mud
Overflowing with water
A monotone grey sky
Pours a calm steady rain
Small eyes glitter
In the hollows of a tree
The air is cool
But does not bite
I lose myself
As I wander the woods
A path less trodden
But not by much
I examine my thoughts
But find nothing of note
So I leave my head be
To kick at the puddles
In one such I find
A small twig of pine
And roll it back and forth  
Feeling the sap coat my fingers
As I continued to walk
And play with the twig
Something profound
Washed over me as the rain
A feeling, a sense
Perhaps even a smell
But there was no thought
No philosophy, no revelation
Just a fullness that came
With simply being
In and of itself

How successful you are does not
matter,
But how important and worthy you were to others.
14/7/2025

Shackled each one hand and foot
They’re loaded roughly onto
Transport planes like cattle
On their way to slaughter.

No luggage goes aboard with them -
Not a toothbrush in a pocket
Or a candy bar to hold them.
Were they even notified- of course not.

What country are they they going to
And what is it they’ll do there?
Who is going to meet their plane?
Who will remove their shackles?

Are there concentration camps
For lack of else to send them?
Will they be caged like chicken farms
Or stacked like hay in barn lofts?

Music for this grim tableau:
“The Plane wreck at Los Gatos”
Sung mournfully by Joan Baez
Who’s seen this debacle before.

Who ordered up this travesty -
This evil on TV Paraded?
Why was there no better way
To send unwelcome people home?
                   ljm

You know it's really bad again
When all I can do
Is sit on my floor
Staring at sharp things I can't have
And putting a pencil between my teeth
Desperate

I don't miss putting my ear against the door
Listening to yelling and breaking of glass
The pain in my chest as sharp as the peices fallen on the floor

I don't miss the tension that overwhelmed me
As soon as I saw him
And soon as I felt the presence of his body
In the room

But I miss my old couch-bed
Dog *** stained and all
I miss the few good memories I have
I miss my tree
I miss my dogs, though they're long gone
I miss the nightly routine
My mother getting me water before I slept
She might not have always been able to protect me
But every night she got me a glass
In the summertime, she'd even put ice in it
And I would feel like the luckiest little girl

I don't miss forcing food down my throat
Or getting high fevers as a way for my mind to cope
But I miss waking up in the middle of the night one night because of nightmares
And my dad seeing
And being okay that time

I slept in his bed that night
He didn't drink
He didn't smoke
He didn't break down or yell
He just hugged me for once
As tears poured down my cheeks
Suspicious of it but more grateful than I had words for

I miss that
I miss home
Please understand it
I know it was bad
Miserable
But it was the first thing I called me own
And it's where I became who I am in