The Playground

Where is the playground?
The playground of years ago

The fat water tower
Naked in the light of a blood moon
The sudden thunderstorm
Hurling itself like Comanche Warriors
Through the black velvet night
Where is the playground?

The dusty backroad
Winding through the Mississippi darkness
Quick spring rain
Carressing the skin of naked lovers
The owl seeking his prey
Where is the playground?

Dreams lost, lying as bleached bones
Visions forgotten in dusty corners
Passionate innocence consumed by fire
Reckless hearts entangled
Where is the playground?

Arise! we shall be reborn
We shall revisit our dreams
Recover our visions
Reconquer our hearts
I have answered my own question
I see the playground

Remembering Mariah, 1991-1999

Inhaling frosty air
I surround myself
With memories
Of you
Of me
of another time
Half forgotten
Yet so easily reborn

Winter Dreaming

Velvet snow adorns
The once bare breasted earth

Branches are etched
In crystal

Silence Salutes
The stark sky

I dream jonquils
And daffodils

Memoir

The overgrown trail
Winds it's way
To the mountain peak

I wans't even sure
I could find it
Again

But here you are
Black eyed and crazy
Seeking the stars

Winterscape

Thet white velvet
Of winter
Beckons me
As the foothills shiver

I almost remember
The high country snows
Of another lifetime
The frozen river

My dreams
Jagged and keen
Jolt me awake
I inhale the northwind

Retracing
The thin trails
And sharp edges
Of where I have been

I almost choke
Upon the memories
Rebirthing themselves
Linking into a silver chain

I shake and shiver
Reality reveals his dark
And terrible face
I will not go there again

TO L.

You loved the flaming
Gold- of October
But I haunt the snows
Of December
Seeking Mudjekeewis

I cannot lie contented
Within the cozy cabin
Nor lie my head mutely
Upon your breastbone

Somewhere out there
Where the foothills
Meet the winter sky
A coyote seeks his mate
An owl seeks his prey

I seek rebirth
Or salvation

Limerick For A High School Classmate

Peggy really gives men a shock
Her face could stop an 8 day clock
From Pacific to Atlantic
She creates such a panic
The sharks all swim to the dock

A poem inspired by Lord Byron

Unlike Byron I can still go a roving

Unconcerned as to whether the heart is loving

Or just foolhardy,taking to many chances

A consequence of reading X-rated romances



I have no idea if the moon is bright

Here in this highrise 13 stories high

No swords are involved which is basically good

Otherwise mister, I might spill your blood



I doubt if my heart will outwear my breast

Although this situation is hardly a test

Your lack of passion is pathetic,ironic

Guess I will keep searching for someone Byronic