Maybe I have
a reckless soul
and am destined
to always be a
problem for
those I love
and who
love me

it’s that
I don’t want
to live just
one life.

Choosing one
and forsaking
all others.

what I give up.

And so
I go slowly
try to be content
to breathe deeply
to be forgiving
of myself and others
to immerse myself
in the beauty
of the world around me
and in the joy
of creating.

I get rid of all things that
keep me from this moment.

And then
each night
comes relief
when he
sings to me

drowning out
all other noise.



I try to live the day slowly
but it is not easy.

I see an old friend
with anchored in the now
inked forever on soft skin.
I draw two foxes by a fire
in love
and wonder about
my next addition.

My eyes won’t let me see
what the others see,
but I still stare
in the same direction.

We are all
inaccurate dreamers.

At night we listen
to the coyotes
as they call and play
outside our windows
sounding closer than they are.
He shines a flashlight
and we see a set of eyes.
They stop,
and are gone.
I am envious of his patience
as I attempt to foresee my next move.

Doing is easier then feeling
but I must move carefully,
whatever direction I go.


On my way to lunch yesterday
I saw and stopped
and took a photo of
a lovely glass door,
only later noticing my own
reflection in it.

I fear that I may have
accidentally become two faced,
two faceted. O dear.
I cannot help it
I think and
put the book down,
reaching for another.
I would not
call it indecision.
I would not know
what to call it.

As a child I was never scared of monsters
under the bed or in my closet
but I did have dreams of my bear
coming to life with a bomb in his belly.

Perhaps it was a thing I saw somewhere,
I can’t be sure.

After that I never did much like that bear.