Chasing Waterfalls

It's a tragedy of reality
that we often must turn back
with the goal in sight
with vision
of where we want to be

We divine safety
holding a snake before us
its forked tongue
whispering the wisdom
of a mortal coil

To know what we know
and still proceed
foolishness
to proceed into the unknown
divine

It's not a miracle we needed

We were alone together

not physically removed

from the atom smashing exchange

of your hand in my hand

the sound of your heart in my head

not physically removed

by more than a hand-print

by edges uniquely ours

It was the last time

we'd walk like that

the last time I'd see you

with that half-smile

aimed somewhere in the distance

some distance where half-happy

was better than this

this composite creature us

It's not one of those things

I look forward to remembering

but all the same

I find myself half-smiling

at the palm of my hand

find your half-smile

in one of its lines

and make half-smiles whole

Dead Letters

She sends me postcards
from far away places
the kind you find in shops
where tourists scratch their kitsch
the kind we used to talk about
owning some day

The first was from
The World's End
and she left it blank
like that was all there was to say
like five years
could so easily disappear

The second was remarkable
only in that she managed
to write: Hi
on the other side
of a mountain
deemed impossible to climb

There was a third
and a fourth
of the ocean and the sky
with the sort of blue that feels
like it will stretch out
somewhere past infinity

This last was of a tree
completely unremarkable
save the fact
a photographer deemed otherwise
save the way
it clung so strongly to the earth

She sends me postcards
from far away places
the kind you find in shops
where history goes to die
the kind we tried to curate
till the future found us out

Forget-me-not

I've lost track of time
without you
not in the pleasant infinity
of a potential us
but the vacant reality
of shrugged smiles
gestures aimed at placating
the ever-present crush
of not you

It's not so bad now
only I can't remember
if it's been one year
or five
if tomorrow marks some
milestone turned millstone
that I'll be dragging
with a dumb grin
past a need for time

Holiday Inn my head

It was one of those non-sequtius gestures
one of those whys
whose answer couldn't possibly
be worthwhile

A key-card for a hotel room
long since rendered inert
stranded on a residential rock
offering only a slogan

Stay Inspired
as if all inspiration took
was a reminder
a nudging from some great unknown