An Uncomfortable Preponderance

I remember my past
Through lense of the present
Attempting to solve the puzzle
Of whom I’ve become.
But too many pieces are missing
And I struggle to view the whole
On the basis of the part.

My mind fills in the blanks
Substituting what was
For what I wanted it to be.

What emerges is
A fanciful rendition
A romantic facsimile
Of the truth.
It’s been varnished
With enough lacquer
To make it gleam
So that anyone interested
May have a favorable opinion
Of the character
I represent.

It is an uncomfortable preponderance.
My past has made me into the man I am
And I, to return the favor
Have done the same to my past.

Monarch in Flight

I asked you once
Do you remember?
My question was
What creature are you
If you could choose one
Among all creation?

Your answer haunts me
After all these years.

You quickly answered.
I am a monarch butterfly, in flight
You said.

In the fog of enchantment
I thought your reply lovely.
I saw the magnificent color
The regal bearing
The flitting wings searching my garden.

I saw the fragility
The tender being
The tenacious freedom
In its wings of beauty and charm.

I saw it all
I thought.

But I missed one thing.

Butterflies fly away.

The Space Between the Words

We talked life’s problems
And matters of the heart
And we talked about everything
In between.

We talked about places
We’ve each been
And the beauty of the world.

But it isn’t conversation I remember.
I recall our silence best.

In the space between the words
I saw your pupils widen.
Your eyes were orbs of black
With hazel spheres.

I saw the tip of your tongue
Slipping between your strawberry lips
Like a hummingbird
Sipping nectar.

I watched your cheeks blush
Like the first glow of dawn
On a placid lake.

I watched your brow soothe
The way a cool breeze gentles fevered temples.

The warm air stirred your soft hair
The way it moves across fields of wheat.

Then we talked again.

But it is the silence I remember.

The Dollar

You don’t get all you pay for.
You never get much at all.
What little you buy goes in the kitchen
Or the bathroom, down the hall.

Your paycheck is a whisper
In a canyon of empty space
It’s a hobble down the highway
In an Indy 500 Race.

All this squabble about the dollar
And the security of Wall Street
Means little to the working man
Just trying to make ends meet.

You work one full time job
And maybe another part time gig
Hoping it’ll make a difference
But it never seems all that big.

Who knows where this is going?
Most say it’s never been this hard.
As for me, my whole retirement
Is buried in a coffee can in my backyard.

Dawgs

I love dem dawgs
Da way they howl
Love how they hunt
Run, point an’ prowl.

Ain’ nuttin’ like a dawg
To lick yur face
Slobber yur chin
Lackin’ social grace.

They wag their tails
And smell like fish
They’ll hump yur leg
And slurp yur dish.

A dawg’ll take over
Yur entire home
But’ll follow you anywhere
You ever roam.

Gimme a dawg
Any ‘ol time
Over anything else
Even my last dime.

But I gotta be honest
Though they'll win our hearts
Ain’ nuttin’ worse
Than a hound with the farts!