Whistling and waiting by the phone,
I love it when you call.
When my phone yells out a ring
my heart pounds and almost stalls.

Down the road, my usual route
I see a car like yours.
My eyes get wide, teary eyed,
I ask, "Why can't that be hers?"

Out in public, I see your back
the feeling of love starts to burn.
Behind my mask, deep down inside
I know it's not you if they turn.

Back at home, all alone
my feelings cling to tears.
Hope is what I run on
since you've been dead for 20 years.

Pale skin scattered with black and blue
Deathly pallor engorging hues
Sorry eyes sobbing their woes
Pleading for help but hoping no one knows
Little people still unformed
Perfect shadows now forlorn
Twitching lips quivering in fear
Dry flesh flushed with tears
That had only recently disappeared
Who will hold his hand
Who will take a chance
Who will wait and understand
Why the innocent can’t dance
Fading as all things discarded, ill-used
Garbage, soft human refuse
The child unsheltered scarred, scared and abused
Who will save the children and doing so save themselves

Two doors down
from a bar
two people,
strangers to me,
sit in a doorway
up on sixth street;
Wearing winter caps,
winter coats,
even though,
I’m sure they know
it isn’t winter yet,
but it’s so cold.
They have each other
as they sit in separate chairs
leaning together.
I wanted to give them
a dollar or some food
but they are sleeping
and I know how hard
it is to get good sleep
in this life.

If I told you they
were children
would you care?

If I told you
they were women
would you care?

If I told you they
were white men
again would
you care?

If I told you
they were black
brown skin
would it matter
At all?    

If I told you
at one time
over fifteen years ago
I slept on a couch
in a hallway
in a building
with cracked
and shattered glass
windows that
let cold winds in.
Cuddling next
to my oldest friend
one head poking out
at each end
from under the thick
sleeping bag I had.
Fully loaded for winter,
except between us
we only had one ski mask
and one pair of gloves,
so we switched off and on.

If I told you what was wrong
so you could find what’s right
how our lives our deeply intertwined
and that this soap box is yours
as much as it is mine?

Would you take the time to see
and help the myriad of yous and mes
that are still suffering,
no matter what they look like?

There was a boy
And a pretty girl
The boy thought,
I'll give her a whirl
She passed, "You're hot--hot as the sun"
He felt a very clever one
She stopped when she heard it,
And then she turned
"Don't get too close to the sun,
You might get burned"
Not heeding her,
"How close can I get?"
I'm not going to let her walk off just yet
She glared at him, hiding mischievous smiles
"No less than 93 million miles "
At the end of his wits,
As she strolled out of range,
He yelled, "But how can I get closer?"
"Maybe with season change!"

And as she disappeared from sight,
The horizon fizzled out
And the new moon glittered
And all the stars came out

When I'm with you, I feel like a child
Just like a wee little child
Whose very best friend is you

If you must ever leave me,
leave a trail of breadcrumbs
I'll make it to that place where you're leading me to

When I'm with you, I feel like a puppy
Warm and fuzzy, playful, trippy-jumpy
Whose very best friend is you

If you must ever leave me,
I'll be lost and sad and lonely
So I'll wait and wait and kiss your face when that day is through

When I'm with you, I feel like a posy
Sweet and fresh and in your hands
Who wants just to be held by you

If you must ever leave me,
I will wilt and shrivel away
So come tend me in your garden when the spring rosebud is new