i’ve watched my wounds heal
      as these past few days went by
   and now that i’m alright again
      i can say the scars will fade too

                someday soon.

This was a fishing village
when people were speaking
the king's English, dead
like the fishing industry
Now the tourists have accents

Truth be told
this was a fishing village
long before that
But we don't speak about
what those folks spoke
Something Algonquian
or another dead language

When the tide is out
I walk the shore and look for remnants
Pottery and stone tools, and such
I find a lot of plastic
and bottles, plenty of those
We've been a drinking people
for a long **** time

Once, I found a child's shoe,
sodden and filled with sand
It had a blue lace,
still tied, and a smiley face
as the tide was going out
Kind of sad, really.

r  ~ 8/28/14

I awoke
at the crack
of dawn

to a blood red sun
-a bullet hole
in a faded work shirt

with a creak in my bones
a quick kiss and a groan

I thanked her
and slipped out
the back door

before her old man
came home.

r ~ 8/30/14

Another silent Sunday morning
Waiting on the sun
Staring north along the tree line
Finding silhouettes still
And thoughts forming
As a fine sliver of light appears
Painting the horizon
Grapefruit shimmers
Lifting the darkness
That has coated my vision
And igniting my smile
As another new day begins with you