foolish

i whispered to the cool night air,
a dream of golden beaches,
the sand collecting in the corners of my eyes—

i whispered that i loved you

and i hoped the wind would carry
my words to you—

across thousands of miles,
across the time,
across the waters,
from which you climb
out to dry
in the golden dust,

the swells of your body heaves
rising and falling, like the waves
like my beating heart

to the cool night air,
from another continent
i whispered

i love you—

because i’m a fool.
for you.

about nothing

in between
the stray sounds from the day,
the clatter of pens
the rustle of pages
there Is a stillness that dulls

the cacophony of voices
that pass through me,
i become invisible, transparent—
my solidity is a spot of unruly paint on the window glass

windows yawning on
two hundred year old hinges,

the whisper of the wind
that moves the leaves

diffusing the stillness of sunlight
filtering through
down
to the unruled pages in front of me

to my hesitant pen that has now
marked it

a prayer

i hope there’s time enough for you and for me
i hope we learn to love and to live with loss
i hope we find the strength and courage,
in ourselves and in each other

to pull through
to a time and a world that is gentler,
where we are kinder to our skins and to one another
all of us, for all the years of unimaginable hurt,
and pain
and madness and hate
and let that be the prayer on our lips
even if it may be foolish
and hope

even if for a brief time of clarity and softness
when we will keep our promises
and delight in sunlight and moonlight and starlight

before everything inevitably ends.