So, since I don't really know how to express in words my thoughts right now, I thought I'd share a couple of original poems:

The Highway: To L.T.

The dashed lines breeze past
Twice the speed of life-
an investment.
Yellow lines blur
Dull, transparent, lifeless
Look out the window before

CRASH

and look at
the needles on a pine tree
the red breast of a robin
a doe and her fawn experimenting
with a crop of alf alfa

instead of steel and concrete
listen to
the yelp of a coyote
the splash of a jumping perch
the giggle of a baby
Silence
instead of sirens and car engines

Soon those yellow lines--
Become moments
vivid, distinct, musical
Each mile marker--
a milestone
For the long road trip home
That some complete
Before the journey really
ends
Its those 'roadies'
that count each dashed line
Remembering its shade of yellow--sunflower
Its texture--rough
Its length--too long
Its width--too short
Its story--one of millions
To Live On


The Bottle

A bottled heart gathers dust
sits with creeks and cracks
Cornered away where it is safe
It doesn't want to sparkle
It doesn't wish to be emptied.
It just wants to be dusted
drank--maybe a little
and tasted with class
a selective sip
Some will eventually savor


Twenty three...going on thirteen
Little girl, stay in books
You will never handle the streets
You don't possess the sense--
Use the pot to boil the water
Make sure to keep the dogs locked up
Put on a little foundation
Maybe some eye shadow
Lose a little weight--remember your heart.
Turn off the lights, lock the door.
As If I Don't Know....
Twenty-three, going on thirteen.