Alone by the tree.

I miss you.



Warm like your hand

Touching my cheek.

Leaves touch

Whispering secrets.


Closing my eyes,

I see you.



Warm like my hand

Touching your hair.

Lips touch.

Whispering secrets.

We Are Different

We are different, she and I.We Are Different She finds delight in things that look nice or fine.

I shrug…but not where she can see me.

When she can see me, I smile and offer opinions, which are worthless.

She knows not to pay attention to my opinions.

They are sincere enough, but they are based on well-practiced confusion about how things look.

When we go shopping I am drawn to things that move or tick or hum,

Things that work, whether or not they are useful.

They are good if they have parts that fit together,

Forming a functional completeness.

I am fascinated or at least appreciative.

Things that hang or blend together seem accidental like a pile of leaves. 

Until we meet

We agree to be alone.

You drift away

Carried by wind and wave-song

And I sit, still and silent

Unhurried and thought-filled.



We drink aloneness


Until it has emptied us

Until we find each other

Exhausted by solitude

Aching quietly for the touch of hands

And we are together … full.