Category: Uncategorized

A stone's throw dream
for days of down-payments
on starry field lakefront properties
and a little harbour
in the long journey of life.

The dew-dripped reeds 
cast along grassy shores
Stood in place for a season
while clasping, grasping tendrils
-placid looking at the surface-
gathered strength from the mud-bed 
I dare not dwell in. 

Wisps here
gliding along 
Thin, light condensation
and placid waters 
See, that one looks like a dinosaur,
see it's head?
Yeah, I think I do.
 
I send out arcs with my hands,
cascading patterns along the cool surface
thinking
about the luxury
of isolation.

Dusty melodies yawning through tunnels
and a seat on your commute.
It's December: you're done with work
but it isn't done with you.

Pack up your dreams, 
hibernate 'til Samhain releases - 
'til then you'll burrow in a frost,
tail coiled 'round your face,
heavenly in retreat,
pelt of sadness,
beat of your heart,
curled in the trill of perpetual night,
safe
alone
and warm. 

Watched that new house come together,
Walls assembled off-site, craned-in, stapled up
A dusting of new across everything.

We came in to unify the walls
pure white on virgin pine
up on scaffolding like we were 
some sort of 
Sistine chapel painters
marveling at the off-kilter pitch of the roof
feeling holy with my arms at work
back in pain and
balanced- always precariously. 

When the storm came in,
a sudden tempest in the muddied skies,
We braced ourselves in the concrete basement
Blackened skies
Furies on the wind
Like an exorcism.

When we emerged
The windowed walls revealed 
the now golden skies reflecting off
decrepit autumn leaves.
We drove into town
and stopped by a field: to stare
and think
and ask ourselves
if the unpredictability of it all
wasn't the point? 
Wasn't that the thing
making our moments worthwhile?

The risk, itself, I thought
being the point:
that if I wasn't risking something
at every moment,
what even was the point
of anything in my life?

Mika said,
"Pack a toothbrush and clean underwear."
Then hauled me away
Up the skyway
Across planes of concrete, under
power line cathedrals, jetting through parking lots
with shopping carts and groceries gathered
haphazard
To a chalet
dropped on the mountainside
like an inverted heart.

Up in the fogged-out trees, 
the rain patterned the pond.
And that night, over spaghetti dinner,
a photo was taken
of me and Graham
right before it dawned on me
that his light could blanket landscapes 
just like mine.

We hauled that ukulele around town,
played pauper dress-up,
monkied around the rings,
and eventually,
inevitably,
collapsed
back at the chalet sprawled on the carpet
laughing without words
morning sun strumming tunes
knees up
arms out
lives full.