Wednesday, April 2, 2014


all the romance
in travel
begins to unravel
maps throw me off
the going gets rough
what I need most
is trust in the space
disturbed and still focused
not a road to repurpose
or a predestined shelter
instead I crave welter
and chance fresh bedlam
no the road
must be open
no end in sight
the road must be raucous
still paved with amends
that will bring me to
the endless within
the things I find
so easy and queer
all the romance behind me
the loss I hold dear
works best at the
sight of an open expanse
a sea view of future
an endless dance
and nothing
that makes us disappear
you my sweet husband
you are my pier

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