there is an old man standing
at the pole on the train
he is cackling to himself and
tossing feet around

it's at times like this
that i wish i were invisible
playing dead to the world
living mountain

hillsides growing gingko and pine
my stones rubbed smooth
by the murky water
translucent with memories.

Heartbreak is only
the time that exists between
two eras of love.

lying on the ground
a cup of untouched mint tea
oxidizing from ochre to black

I put on a coat
stretch out on the balcony,
and wait for the mist

What's to become of this
loneliness.
This excess and motionless
feeling of
What's to become of us two
Our thoughts stay static.

Gone is the wind
Empty forests loom
Higher than before
A hush settles over
a hundred houses

the lake is rippling
like worn blankets covering the water
ebbing
dangerously close to the boardwalk's edge.

I turn and walk away,
my back yearns for the vast open lake
as if it were a sea I could lose myself in
instead I am lost to the city.