Tomorrow

Yesterday
was the last day.
The last day I wrote
and accepted farewells
forever engraved on my soul.

Yesterday
was the last day.
The last day I walked
among the blooming trees
that had been my refuge from fear.

Yesterday
was the last day.
The last day I allowed
memories to wash over me
like so many nights out in the storm.

Yesterday
was the last day.
The last day I delved
into a smooth cedar chest
that held heartbreaks and healing.

But that was yesterday.

Today
was the first day.
The first day I ventured
out into the wider, vaster world
beyond my childhood haunts and havens.

Today
was the first day.
The first day I traveled
past the city limits on a dusty road
with none but my conscience for company.

Today
was the first day.
The first day I left behind
my broken years and heavy heart
in exchange for a fresh page, a new start.

Today
was the first day.
The first day I discovered
that old things can be renewed
and that our past does not define our future.

Today the road extends to possibilities.

On Lonliness

Across the valley
stood a tall, wizened willow.
It drooped to the ground,
branches brushing the
velvety grass.

In this tree
sang a lonely robin.
It did not twitter away happily
as its brothers,
but piped melancholy tunes for its friend.

The notes that left
the robin's throat
were carried about with the wind
and drifted to the ears
of all the lonely beings.

Those that heard
the robin's song
wept with pearly tears of understanding
and gladness, endowed with the knowledge
of another empathetic creature.

When the robin sang no more
great mourning spread across the land
and those that heard retreated
back into their shelters
while the willow withered silently away.

Only an Apple

It was only an apple.
just a shiny, perfect, ruby red apple.
So innocently sitting on the counter
minding its own business, not bothering anything.

But it was tempting, that promising color,
the sweet scent,
the lack of bruises and soft spots.

And so you reached out,
hand eagerly grasping the flawlessly spherical shape,
mouth watering in anticipation of the first, juicy bite,
ears expectantly awaiting that satisfying crunch
that came from the initial taste,
lips anticipating that rivulet of stickily sweet nectar
soon to be dribbling down your trembling chin.

Pearly white incisors cleanly tore open the rosy skin,
revealing the soft whiteness underneath
crisp and sweet to the tongue.

But there was something more, an underlying metallic
that before had gone unnoticed to your hunger.
Slowly, it seemed, all the world passed by
as you fell to the floor, all sounds gone mute, no feeling in your limbs.

And as you lay there, waiting for the darkness to close in,
perhaps for eternity,
the last thought that crossed your mind
before waking by a kiss:

"But it was only an apple."

Dreaming

They came in the night
And took my love
They took my love away.
And far off to the ocean
Down beyond all commotion
They sat and waited for me.
So I dove and I swam
Gave chase to the edge
Of the darkness, a trench so deep
No longer could I
Sight my quarry, and so
I sat and waited for time.
An eternity passed
Along with another
So long was I waiting down there.
Green algae grew to a mossy beard
Down to my seaweed toes
Silver fish wove between
My coral hair
Making it home so dear.
And when I awoke,
I sat up with a start
No longer at the mercy of whim
A breeze wafted through
My opened window,
Bringing the scent of the sea.

Disappear

In the years I dwelt in the city

My soul began to drift

To far-off places that no one knew

And none had caught a whiff.

As the days rolled on and on

I often walked and wondered

About those places from fantastic tales

That echoed in the voice of the freebird.

Soon I began to lose myself

Among these childish dreams

Few days had passed before anyone knew

Or recognized my face.

And so I began to disappear

Among the clouds of night

Into the darkness of the forest I delved

The better to remain far from sight.

National Poetry Writing Month Begins!

Shining in the dark
a beacon of sorts;
a little silver,
a little gold,
a little something-in-between;
Neither sun nor moon
not a disk in the sky
or wisp of a thought
a stroke against the velvet sky;
Not a pinprick of white
glittering like a million diamonds
set against a lady's silken skirt;
More of a warmth,
not a cold, half-lidded eye
watching every move,
More of a soft glow,
not a radiantly penetrating beam
heating the heartless stone,
More of a gentle throb,
not an aloof awareness
with no care this way or that;
Shining in the dark
a light close to the heart
of all who see
and feel
and know.