Tag Archives: Writing

maybe not

i fell in love two days ago
twenty times in the span
of three and a half hours
each time while bent at the
knees, staring into wide eyes
and open face still softened
by childhood’s tender touch

maybe it’s too soon to say love?
after all, i hardly know them
but i know that i want to
see them again and maybe
assist them as they write
their stories out, the ones
that are still rough first drafts
on their way to becoming
fine tales of bravery and heroism
and kindness, so much kindness

puzzle night

there was to be no poem
no words, no paper, no pen
no ink smudged pinky

just the simple quiet of 500 pieces
forming the sunrise and shadows
of Haleakala national park

but i am so used to daily trusting
my eyes and fingers to perform
i forgot how my mind can wander

so here i am, between the borders
of smoky-purple morning haze
and blinding yellow-white sun

turning words and cardboard bits
in my mind before picking them out
and attempting to fit them together

random

this nightly game I play
with words is not unlike
the challenge of piecing
together a jigsaw puzzle

all the parts interlocking
just so that an image forms
from the chaotic jumble
of straight and curvy edges

but unlike those numbered
boxes of broken up bits
i never know how many
it will take

beginning

the stains on my fingertips
are not washing away
as easily as they used to

is this how it was for you
long ago, before the pigment
seeped deep into your pores

or were you born
with ink already flowing
through your veins?