lovers’ trail
my hands remember the curves
of her womanhood
windshield wipers squeak
back and forth we bicker over
stay or go ...
night of fireflies ...
all that remains
of our on-off love
her voice
recedes into the roar
of the river --
this floating life too short
to be anything but happy
Added: Re-Homing in the Maple Land, IX
my roommate
mutters, no you or I
only we
crowded in this basement ...
together a l o n e
Added:
after a day
unlike all the others
a six-lane snarl-up
