Poetry

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 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

Hawaii

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

Carol

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