The Dare

As the late September bonfire
died low
she told me
this was not her first time,
but I let my breath linger
on grounds not foreign
in the way that memory
is like a road map
even if years
have softened the edges
and browned the seems

and it was so...

The dare
hung in the air
so soft
that the sun's rays
could push it
to the ends of the earth

She told me
it would be OK
that though my intentions
were less than honorable
they were welcome
always
with her

and it was so...

It was not my first time
it only felt that way
as we lay living and dying
there together in the
unseasonable heat
of an autumn night

the fire dying low
but the glow
will live forever

There Be Dragons Here

The journey itself
a means to an end

and in the end
what we mean
is exactly
what we say

from so high up
a flag looks like
a note from
my bluest
fairygodmother

sailing on
flying on
toward the sun
as it drowns in the west

the ocean...
or the tears
of a dead god;
reborn crown of sinful
earthbound glories
yet to come

"On The Road"

Been a long ride....

the gears scream
and whine
and sputter out a tune
that compliments
the road
gone,

bye....

the road....
well, she could care less
for petty pretty-faced
compliments and words
that disappear into air
as the wind carries them
to the sea...

she sings her own song
that stings each and every
traveler gone by...

about the days and nights
blended seamlessly

endtoendtofrontobackagain

she sings her song
and all you need to do is
listen:

because it won't stop
until we kiss the sun
on top of Mount Sinai

it won't ever stop
'til the grass won't grow
or the river won't flow

Been a long ride...
and it just won't stop
until one of us
saves the other's
beleaguered
beknighted
bejeweled
denim and flannel
shrouded
soul

Been a long ride,
and a million more
miles and bumps
and heartbeats
to go