no encore

What I once thought was
a warm flame focused its heat
into a spotlight.

Blinded by your gaze,
I started this performance
with my face on fire.

Breezing through the void,
I took chances as I sang,
leaping past my fears

to jingle neurons,
to scrape up roots of response.
My breath blew music

from this distant stage:
voice of improbable dreams,
stupid strumming strings.

My song ended flat.
I never knew if your face
smiled or wept from the

blackness of your chair...
how my unseen audience
of one really felt.

Did the words matter?
At least you offered applause.
Spotlight off. Goodbye.

Indigo bunting

I found him intact,
iridescent feathers preened,
anticipation

of journey's endgame
squelched in an instant. Lover
killed. Songs never sung.

there is no why

Where to go with me?
City girl wants a tree house
and a sushi bar.

When to be with me?
Somewhere between all this rage
and manic cooking.

Who to see in me?
An eight year old girl aflame
and a sailor drowned.

How to be with me?
Nothing short of brutal truth,
laughter, hearts and bones.

What to do with me-
insomniac misanthrope,
mind of curdled milk...



(written 2 April 2007)