Blackbird

I broke someone's heart
In the sad, ugly process I consequently cracked my own
It left me unconsciously shaken and vulnerable
So when the blackbird turned and flew from my window
My heart was shattered
Bleeding and carried away like a mouse

Lampshade

He was tall as a tree
With a head like a flesh-colored lampshade
He had a small top of red hair
The texture of which was thick and yarnish
He was dressed to a tee
Looking the part of a college professor
Legs conservatively crossed and patches on his elbows
He was writing on a pad
Sometimes furiously, other times lethargic
Crafting the great American novel?
Perhaps making out the week's list of groceries
The chair he was sitting on was balanced on a sharp ledge
He looked ready to fall at any moment
I hope he can finish his work before he hits bottom

Heart

Shut out the noise and listen
Listen
Listen to your heartbeat
Pushing and pulling you
Such a tiny engine for such a complex machine
If you're lucky, you can hear another closely and
Synchronize your rhythms into a beautiful tandem
Stronger and fuller
When the two become one
Shut out the noise and listen
Listen

To Whom

It's a cold, cold day
As we carry him up the muddy hill,
Lower him down into the deep waiting ground
Zipping my jacket and tightening my scarf offer little resistance
Against the chill from the icy wind of death
The minister eulogizes and finally I listen:
"Speak every word as though it's your last," he says
So, just in case,
I forgive you
I'm sorry
I love you

For Chris

Liar on a bathroom stall

Further adventures