in the house
beside the liquor store
on the corner
of a rented
American dream

we lived
between the familiar
and the foreign
between abundance
and desire

plastic chairs
on cold linoleum floors
christmas cards
draped along fishing line

mismatched pillow cases
and blanket covers made
from scraps
left behind
on the factory floor

we used to
with much less
and much more

have a home
spun
from a stronger thread

Against a clear blue sky
Gunung Rinjani casts
a formidable shadow.
Simmering for years,
the threat of eruption pulls
the heart
the lungs
the legs
forward
in breathless pursuit
of it’s summit.

Inside
a smoldering history
of lives lived,
of lives lost,
of dreams, delayed.

The ascent casts a spell.
A clear path buffered by trees,
ribbons of soft white clouds caress
the face
the neck
the shoulders.
A welcome diversion
as the air thins
as doubt rises
thousands of feet above the sea.

Perched high
far from the world below
the long graceful curve of the summit
beckons,
the deep waters of Segara Anak
glisten,
the sky makes way
for an all encompassing darkness.

The eyes close now.
In their place
only the heart can hear
Orpheus’ song,
only love would follow
this steep treacherous road.

In dreams
the wind is a gentle force
pushing Eurydice forward.
In dreams
the eyes open to a new life
at the end of a long arduous climb.

This, is not the story.

The illusion of safety
fades from view.
Weary legs fail
to remain steady
on a shifting trail
of stone and ash.
The fall from here
would be fatal.

Alone
the Sun rises again
upon a desolate landscape
coaxing the chill
from trembling hands.

The wind continues to howl
filling the air
with words drawn
from the depths of the Earth.

Songs of courage
in one breath,
songs of longing,
in yet another.

amber leaves begin
falling to the forest floor
recalling what was

The distances we must travel
through time, memory and space.

In flight
wings unfurled
eyes narrowed
she descends again
as the morning fog
lifts

There is nothing more exquisite
than this –

The surface of the water
is deceptively calm
she waits instinctively
for life to stir
underneath

that deep persistent ache, a hunger
that cuts like a knife.

Weary from solitude
and empty of sustenance
she hears a call
a deep barking
a familiar voice

What makes us whole, must we be,
to be complete?

In his bill
a majestic red and black
she can sense
an offering
a minnow
enough for them both

When will the light
go out?
Where will it be kept
hidden?

I held your attention
longer than I intended
more than I thought possible.

There are songs now
that will always
take me –

To the moment
I looked up
and found you
looking too.