The Plastic Washing Up Gloves

If you took for yourself

For one week

For three years

For a day

For a lifetime

Knowing

Greed

Might break one heart

Greed - covering

Hands from a heist

In green and avarice

Washing up gloves

pretending to

Swing like a child

In innocent bliss,

The price is never certain

The path may not lead to treasure true

And so stay good,

When you can.

There’s nothing so bad about good.

One heart in one week or in three years

For a day

A moment

A lifetime

Might turn out to be better

Than an acquittal of trust

Might lead you to a fork

In the path that was more free

Less laden with yourself

And your culpable tears.

For one week

For three weeks

For a day

A lifetime

It only takes a second

To break a loving heart

Choose life

Choose respect

Choose love.

Little Treehouse Girl

Little girl picked up the beginning

Like all the beginnings I had placed there

All an ellipses of time

Write about love….

That was hers

Though she chose it

I willed the stars

That she might find it

At the right time

In the right place

Fidget she did

and flitter her hands

over empty space

as though it was

made to rent

and not own.

“I can’t write this

I don’t know this

What do I know

about love.

Nothing.

Nothing.

I know

Nothing."

"YOU KNOW

SOMETHING

Since you’re asking"

I said…

What about

How

And What about

Who

And Is it in

New

Or before

Or now?

What about

Where

And

Can you go

There?

Litltle girl

Come on

Think

Into feeling.

I know where

Was the answer

In a treehouse

In the quiet air

At the top of a stair

That all could own

For dreaming.

I now where

At least I know

Where

At least you know

Where

At the top of the stair

In the quiet air

At the fun of the

Fair.

Go there

Little girl

Wherever you can

Wherever you will

Whenever you might

Though the night

Were your lampshade

Though the day

Were your way

And look up

Look up

Look up

…

Write about love

---

Jumping Fences

Little boy

Little girl

Sat down on

The carpet of

invention

building fences

turning the invisible

into jungle dreams

in the distance.

Little Lion

Little Zebra

On the piggyback

Of dreaming

“Where shall we go?”

“Over fences Little Lion”

“To the Wild little Boy…”

With stripes

from night

into Day

for the season

was ripe

to make

memories.

Zebra then she

called on her

million mile

endurance

Of never forgetting

Of the Roman Circus

Of chariots

to flight

and fun.

Little Lion

Big lion

Big Zebra

Little Zebra

could land us

in Zion

or Zebon

or the jungle 

or the wild...

I didn’t mind

which way

as long as you

might stay

and jump fences

I wished

were never there

at all

in the first 

place.