Here we are
       this and now  
          never turn your heart away !
Hear the song
that comes out strong
                then sweet ...
pure upon your lips of red

Birds of paradise
              fly high
           as they soar towards
                         the sun !

Here we are
                you and I
                        living for the other
                            as if we'll never die !

The winds of change swirl in my life, leaving new breath in my lungs. Is this me? Am I truly free from all your negativity?
My chest burns with something new, love?
Not for you, but for me.
I'm finally free.

~ for Paula Poundstone~

brain has its own calendar,
alarms, forget~me~nots, nat-ur-ally,
seeds and scraps of half-breed poems,
even its own junk drawer, with extra
keys, pocket tissues, swiss army knives

call 'em appoint-moments,
random and scheduled,
though not always attentive paid

no longer needy for post-it notes,
reasons why I may I have come to a
particular room in search of a) b) or see

now, I just need to remember to take
my brain with me,
which is much harder than you
'think'…

You intrigue,
With your unsubtle unsettled intent to decieve,
Breadcrumb clues
Your gender;
(don't care)
Your age
(don't care, but oft
Insightful)
<>
Only two things do I require;
Any name you wish to provide,
(So intriguing, always a poem in & of itself),
And from where you hale/hail,
So my imaginings can fly to you
With full embrace
<>


Sunday
July 20th
2025
Still & Quiet
in the sunroom
S.I.