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The Poacher

Looking down at my
horribly painted toe nails
I am filled with dread
for no apparent reason.

Panicked I try to hold
onto the minutes.

I cant, but trying makes
a kind of sense that comforts.

We all have modes of being,
cycles, and it is such a gift
to be aware of our own.

I tend to universalize.
For better or worse
I see the world and
her people as a whole.

Some instincts cannot be tamed.

I read another’s words and suddenly
I feel an urge to protect what’s mine.
To defend against those who would
poach whatever morsels they can
manage.

But, just as suddenly,
the urge passes and I
realize he is no threat.

All partnerships have their ups
and downs, but there is a symmetry
to my chaos which I hope
can be seen and
appreciated.

A Blessing

When I was young
a wise man told me
that I would be blessed
to see things as they
truly are.
 
It came upon me late in life
but is quite surely a blessing.
 
Of course futures are still
unknown, but I have found
myself less susceptible
to lies, particularly my own.
 
I have been undervalued,
as have we all, but there are
worse things, and I guess it has
been a motivator too, and anyway
no one is as perfect as
they want to be.
 
At a certain point I suppose
faith becomes ridiculous
but still there are nights
when I lie in bed
and pray in the dark
and quiet. Pray with
only the cats and the
coyotes awake to keep
me company.
 
I hope at least they hear me.
 
We all have a slight attachment
to suffering, which is only as
useful as we allow it to be.
 

The Robber

I thought apathy was
the worst thing you
could do to me, so
of course it was what
you did, while ignorance
was the worst I could do
to you – and love –
so I did them both
enthusiastically.

I became translucent,
reaching for something
true but unable to grasp it.

Quietly I made it through.

Even occasionally
was sometimes
too much for me
to bear.

That last time you rushed
in too quickly, like you had
other things on your mind
and I was an afterthought.
Just another check mark on
your list of things to do.

At first there had been such
an urgency, a need, and
you couldn’t wait any longer.

But not that day, in your
new house full of unopened
gifts in pretty paper.

That day we both wished
we were somewhere else.

In truth, even before
we wished for an escape.
That night in the dark and
the open air, sounds of the
lake in our ears, your mouth
on mine, your arms pulling
me more and more into you
as you leaned over me and
we got closer and closer
to the ground.