Death sentence

He wishes he could forget
that Autumn in the Midwest
where childhood desire bloomed
and the greenery slowly died.

Her eyes burned like an opal
at dusk - in the setting sky,
he could never look away.
He could never fight the trance...
the lust... the magic... the darkness...
that danced inside her

He watched helplessly
His hands turn from green
to yellow
to red
to brown
to dead
in her cold palms

He wishes he could forget that
Autumn in the Midwest
when le magique of a girl
drowned the fire in his soul.

He wishes he could forget...

A Young Dancer and A Few Hundred Horses

self contained [f.rag.ment.s]
sculpted
into familiar body parts
a cluttered studio, cleaned out by
apathetic hands.

they will never appreciate
the love
you cast.

Who am I anymore?

i may never understand this lifetime
or the next
but i may only hope to leave a watermark
of my pathetic existence on the hearts
of those i have loved along the way.
you and i
are just the same.

This is exactly where I want to be tonight.

Dear God,
It is easy to talk about love and justice, mercy and peace.
Help me live the truths I speak of.
May my actions always reflect Your presence within me.
And so it is.
Amen