Bent

Compass arrows on an old map

Telephone poles, passing one by one in the middle of nowhere

Fresh white chalk from home to first before the start of a game

Pencil marks drawn against a straight edge from point A to point B

But not everything lines up in a perfect straight line

Some things are meant to be a little bit bent

Especially me

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Summit Conversations

Every step I hear his voice

Switchbacks, zigzagging from one memory to the next

Back and forth between present and past

My father walks beside me, still

Together we summit

Looking down at cloud tops

Leaving behind hellos, goodbyes

Placing them gently for safekeeping

Until next time, next time

Slow grateful descents, alone

Other summits in our future

A handshake, a hug

Waiting for another time to continue our conversation

.

Originally posted September 1, 2015

Moments of Escape

The sound of whitewash slowly reaching the sand

Seagulls gracefully gliding overhead

Trees rustling, leaves singing a beautiful melody

Tall grass bending with the sound of the wind

Quiet buildings’ stoic shadows

Strewn from streetlights in the midnight hour

The beautiful echoes of silence

Sitting in a pew of an empty church

Bending down, closing my eyes

Smelling grapes in the middle of a vineyard

These memories of quiet moments

Such a beautiful escape

As I manage through my busy days

*Originally posted June 12, 2015

Fly Away

Waiting at train stops

Watching trains wisp by in a blur

I can see their faces

Wishing one of them were mine

.

A black bird sings

Singing a lonely tune

Reaching out to me

Asking me to fly away

.

I close my eyes

Thinking of long forgotten roads

Roads that have fallen off maps

Waiting to be found

.

Silence jolts me from my thoughts

The train is no longer to be seen

Only the yearning remains

The black bird has flown away

.

Originally posted July 3, 2015

Remembering

Black and white photographs

Unfinished journals frayed at the edges

The scratching sounds of a vinyl record playing

The sweetness of her voice losing me to my past

Eyes closed

Open heart

A numbness takes over

And I forget how to remember

Or maybe remembering makes me want to forget

But it’s a part of me

Always with me

In the front of my mind

On the tip of my tongue

Or in hibernation

Waiting for the next time to wake.

Originally posted June 13, 2015

Puddles of Lost Voices

Falling rain

Each drop free falling faster than the next

The sound of a million needles splashing on my skin

Tiny droplets reverb in the background

A lonely melody emerges

Puddles of lost voices begin to sing

Their faint voices, distant

Burrow deep inside and stay with me

And I’m certain

There will never be a storm like this again

But I will always hear this song

Whenever it rains

Originally posted August 22, 2015