here and there, there
they walk the streets
push carts bags full
the unnoticed, hidden
ones, people turn their
eye, another one sildes
past the long dimly lit
alleys and bridgeways
sliding away, slipping
from view, unlisted
and left nameless
the hungry, the lost
who mourns those as
another day passes
all invisible.

poppies

amongst the angst, twisting
through seconds that drip
between tears that rain
bursts fragmented seedlings
blown in the breezes blue
somewhere between night
and yesterday landing gently
upon loamy wanting calls
tomorrow’s blossoms reach
out of the darkness’ passion
from the chaos of possibility
dreams smile orange and kind.

it was around the fire
that rose and danced
hand held and chanting
where old stories burned
of these things told to
ourselves, the demons
released from wounded mind
bondage created frailty
through words internal
untrue and limiting fly
upward with ash and smoke
fire stories no more.

Around the bonfire

sunny wind whistles through fingers
reaching up and outward into the sky
speeding down remote winding roads
where the scent of sage and mesquite
fill the air with richness while leaning
into the seats waiting for the arrival
of water, geese and the fullness of grass
under your back, weaving your toes
while up through the shades of green
sun shines smiles down upon you knowingly.