We sat together.
We sat alone, but together.
Not alone in the sense
that we weren't together,
but alone in the sense that
it was just us.

We talked for hours
About our dreams
and our goals.
We revealed our frailties
and our nightmares.
We talked about the hours
that passed as we talked.

We fell for each other
as we joked about how
foolish things are
like love and fear;
like anger and confusion.
We foolishly joked
about falling for each other.

We pictured a life together
where finances didn't matter,
only that we were in love.
We pictured our children,
our cats and our dogs.
At least thats how I picture us
picturing us.

We sat together.
We sat alone, but together.
I mistook your love
for friendship at first
just as you mistook my friendship for love.
A mistake I made, thinking it was real
until the moment that I finally woke up.

They sat Together
on the porch with Their hot chocolate
now beginning to chill

He had so much to tell Her
how He felt
how He saw Her
how much She mattered to Him
He was so embarrassed to share His feelings
He was even worried
as to how HIs breath made clouds in the cold air
Hers were not as noticable

there were many things keeping Them apart
the slight mount of snow building between Them
the frigidness of the cold air
and the secrets

the secrets
hanging around Him
like the halo of the snow angel
She had made earlier that night

the love He had for Her
as refreshing as the cool air
against Her soft cheeks
yet He was afraid of it

He took Her hand in his
stared Her in the eye
and gathered His courage

then She said "I Love You"

Smooth, Sleek, Structured
Caramel colored and Calm
Slight scratches show
A past of pain, no glory
Smooth, Sleek, Structured
Caramel colored and Calm
A Soft and Simple stone

Too bad I hate rocks
Even one this beautiful.
Rocks are ******* boring.

She put on her make-up, her dress and her watch
She pulled up her socks and put up her hair
And in her hair, she placed the umbrella

The small green umbrella
had at first been a joke.
There in her cocktail
on their very first date.
He had taken it from the ice,
setting it above her left ear.

She walked out the door, down the driveway, to the car
She pulled out from the drive, and into the street
And in the rearview mirror, she caught the umbrella

She had worn it on each
of their dates after that.
Through all the long years.
Through all the happiness,
and sometimes the fights.
It always kept them connected.

She entered the building made of soft colored stone
She met with the nun, who helped her with the practice procession
Through her walks down the aisle, the sister noticed, but didnt ask, about the umbrella

She had worn it the night
that he had proposed,
just as she would
on the day they would wed;
and the next ten years after that.

She saw more cars pull up, more friends and family arrive
She met with them all, and spoke with them softly
They were all accustomed, of course, to the fifteen year old, faded, umbrella

Ten years after the wedding
she still had the keepsake.
She had even been wearing it
on the most tragic of days.
The day of the accident,
the one she survived.

So she walked down the aisle, and arrived center stage
She smiled at the calm face of the man that she loved
She then reached up to her hair, and inside his casket she placed

The Small Green Umbrella

A vast, and mostly empty world.
Yet each rock, chasm and plant
are completely smooth.
This world is metallic.
As are its landmarks.

Sleek, silver silhouettes;
metal mountain sides.
It all leads to the pyramid
surrounded by more ridges of steel.
A light shines through the top
of this gateway to knowledge.
A symbol to a futuristic,
primitive cultures God.

But does their God answer?
No. No he does not.
His focus is instead
on something else entirely.
What it is, these metal men
do not, and will not ever know.
But it is more important than them.

Her voice was the sweetest thing
that she will ever speak, if only
she would speak to me again.

When the chocolate strawberry that is her voice
melts onto my tongue and into my ear
things appear that shouldn't.

The strange lands, my unbalanced self.
But with her voice, the sweetest thing,
I feel that all other people make no sense.

So I'll risk it - I'll risk everything I have
for the invisible caress that turns my skin to fire.
The caress of the infinite fingers made by her beautiful voice.

Although I am now medicated
by small bluish-green pills,
I sometimes skip a dose a day
only based upon the hope
that she will speak to me again.

Without the pills my world is
confusing. People don't make sense,
things appear that shouldn't
and I feel things I normally wouldn't.

But to risk walking through
the strange lands that my unbalanced
mind creates would be worth it.
If I were to one day finally see
the woman who speaks so gently into my ear.

Her voice was the sweetest thing
I had ever heard. It was to my ears
as a chocolate strawberry is to my tongue.
It would only ever say nice things to me.