I'm just a boy
Starring outside
From a second story
Window.
And you're just a girl
Walking down the
Sidewalk..
I don't know if I'll ever
See you again.
But I'd like to think
I will.

Some day.

tv tucked-in to premature sleep,
t'is elementary that I
I awaken midnightish,
mission most unusual
sherlocked~unaccomplished,
to disembark from the day's
shellacking


glancing out the window,
many of the yellow lit windows
decorating (not littering) my cityscape,
precisely the color of the tastefully ostentatious
but breath taking
canary yellow diamond five carat ring
I will never buy you,
that shall be the ring, always,
She-Lacked

not because I can't
not because it is impossible tho most extra frivolous ridiculous ice cream scoop
upright~downright double silly,
buuuuuut
because
certain things in life off course,
and are truly better for just
the wanting
than
the having.

but not you,
of course.

Of course!

I spied it first from my upper deck,
a huge nest of driftwood, tree limbs and seaweed.
Each summer watching the male do his sky dance
while spotting prey underwater
from 30 meters above Hells Gap Marsh.
His wings constructed in a manner
that allows him to bend and shield
his eyes from the sun as he lands.

The first thing I would look for
after each hurricane took another bite
out of our coastline.
And after six succeeding hurricanes
the nest still strong in the top of the old tree, though
empty in the cold months as the Osprey winters south.
Several generations of young I've watched grow
through summers in my time here.

For two full years now the nest has stood empty.
Mates for life have parted.
No more young learning to hunt the fish.
Standing  as a metaphor
for my own
soon to be empty nest.
A reality, not just a
syndrome.

r ~  30Jan14

Hours go by, lying in my bed,
Endless thoughts running through my head;
Some of excitement, some of dread
As I watch my dark heart bleed red.

What to do with this long, black night?
Pray for sleep with eyelids shut tight
Against the horror and the fright
Of the things that are not quite right.

But elusive sleep never comes
And all I hear are distant drums,
Beating out their ominous thrums,
Accompanied by wailing hums.