Unlike the ones I know,
Sing beautifully,
Vigorously,
Unapologetic-ally,
Eight different songs,
Awaking me before light,
Before the rising heat of Corozal.

Surprise me!
A sink,
A toilet,
A shower,
A plastic can to leave soiled paper
A cup to pour water
On my sweaty self...
I am eight again,
Homesick at summer camp,
Stuck powerless in time.

My Girl,
My Melody,
I love you!

I know I tell you regularly,
But being here with you
Reminds me how precious
You are.

Time is growing down;
I cannot get enough
Time with you....

We are not in Corozal
For waves and sun,
For lying out beneath a tropic sky.
Instead I see you sitting on a stool
Reading stories to children,
Sans makeup, sans decoration,
Sweat beads your forehead  
As you puff a ringlet
Of hair from your eyes
While beautiful children,
Mesmerized,
Enjoy your reading.

You have flown so far to be
A teacher and a friend
To others whom you've never known,
To forego the safety of our home,
To listen to the children,
Though we have our own...

So, I am watching you with different eyes,
Seeing inward beauty outward shine...
Praise God above that you are mine.

The dark spaces of the night sky
Leave gaps of light, yet I see
The darkness reach down
Between us, like a *****,
Leaving a hole
For entrance or escape.

There is this break in continuity,
Not a recess,
A lack of balance, a deficient area,
Like the hole in a hedge,
A military break,
A cavity in the denfense's alibi,
The distance between the lead runner
And the chasing pack.

I would like to believe
The opening is an intermission,
A respite from our intensity,
But the breach is a divide,
A rift of passage
Between two immoveable mountains
Where interludes move on
Between differences of attitude.

I returned from three days of golf
At Lake Orion, with a philosophical man.
A PhD talked the ear off me,
And spoke so deeply on the meanings
Of life as we approached the green.
Across the fence in a sawgrass meadow
I saw a doe grazing in spite of us.
I don't remember much of his diatribe
But the ball and the doe stuck.

He continued on the fallacy of memory,
Asking me to name the cities of the Olympics:
Mexico, Rome, Beijing, Montreal,
I think I was able to name them all;
But the ****** pup swimming
Beneath the walkway
Dragging a branch underwater
Cleared the air,
Like a thump on my chest,
Took my breath away,
And stopped my ear.

It was suggested to me
I should read a great book:
Why Do Men Lie.
My response was,
*Why Do Men Do Anything.

Sure, it's easy to define life.
Explain everything using the variable,
X.