No. 14

A twilight room drifts through space
Grotesque shadows glide across the murky walls

Lying still in a soft embrace
Under a rain of piano keys
Rolling off our cheeks as warm tears

A Morning Drive

Iridescent snowflakes twirl in the white headlights
Fine lines of the instruments glow ruby
The shifter clicks silently

Hoth in Alberta

A warm bubble of life in a boundless snow desert 
The setting sun, shivered up from the cold, hesitant to touch the frigid horizon
Strapped in, my gloved hands rest on the controls
Soft amber glow of the instruments reflected in the frosted canopy
The white vastness slowly turning around me 

Indiana '95

A pitch black basement of a cabin in the Indiana woods 
Not a sound comes in from the outside 
A small TV in the middle of a large room 
The VHS tape is silently spooling 
I do not notice the Thanksgiving cold 
For I am far far away 
Feeling the moist foggy air of Dagobah 
As Yoda looks on in silence 

Symphony on Mt Umunhum

Sections of the cricket orchestra come on 
To the shimmering amber beads of the valley lights 
As the stellar fleece greets the night from above 
Deer rustle through the murky bush 
A gust of wind brings a distant sound of the traffic on the 85 
To the sporadic ticking of the cooling Mt Umunhum sign 
The nocturnal symphony has begun 

Winking at James Dean

Wide awake in my bedroom 
I catch myself smiling again 
As if a playful wind had ripped through my mind 
Sweeping away the beehive of daily thoughts 
Leaving only you 
So many projects await 
So many places to travel to 
So much to catch up on 
All later. 
For now we are waltzing to Kaas 
Twirling effortlessly outside of this world 
Dissolved in our embrace 
Thank you for making me feel so alive again

Looking So Fine

I-57 straight as an arrow 
Shimmering lights of Chicago cityscape on the distant horizon 
Reflected in the amber glow of Audi instruments 
Sweet nocturnal air streams in through the rolled down windows 
Your shiny black hair flutters in the wind 
You are asleep against the muted growl of the turbo 
Barely audible music streams from the CD 
A catchy melody 
Notes falling like droplets on your face 
You look so fine 

Californian Rain

Rain droplets drum on the roof 
Waking me up 
Ragged clouds crawl over the 17 
Puddles burst into fountains of spray from under the speeding cars 
The smell of soggy eucalyptus trees rises through the air 
Torrents run down the steep Santa Cruz streets 
And the blanket of fallen conifer needles heaves over the campus puddles 

A Night Flight

A full moon in the frigid vacuum high above
An eerie pale blanket of swirly clouds far below
A warm living speck between them, we are flying home 

Chic clique

Subtle A/C hum in the predawn silence 
Not a single movement in the clean futuristic room 
I watch the airplanes depart into the sky against the twinkling Venus


Golden hills adorned by the acacia green 
Lazy cooing of the birds in the shimmering air 
Timid waves gently lick the sand 
Time stands still 


An aristocratic toss of the blond hair
Just a smidgen of a cultured smile
The velvety voice melts into the silence
Words hung in midair as a wisp of cigarette smoke
Exquisite. Detached.
She floats through the world
In need of no one

Snow Ash

Mute snowflakes twirl through the air
Drowning the spring in white ash
A petite dark figure on a narrow trail
She looks up in defiance
The flakes land on her bloodless lips
Melting in her warm breath
Covering her hair
A yellow tulip against the murky monochrome