what joys of love shared we
those months that passed quickly by
and adventures past we've seen
what beauty present and age mixed;
think not of what we've been but
what we've taught and how we've grown
into that space where memories lurk
and trumpeters serenade our episodes of
parting friends and substitute "me too's".
July 11, 1984
Lost Familiarity
when we were young and innocent
and freedom was without direction,
our weekly groceries were ten dollars,
our only obligations were to each other,
and our trust consisted of shared albums,
drinking weekend beers, downtown walks,
hand-in-hand and our future owned by no one
went nowhere; yet, we were happy and
life was simple to us as we watch others
make their lives complicated... our
collection of shells waited by the door,
documenting our search for the perfect
treasure and our selection narrowed as
our focus became of lost passions,
of cold winters that served only to
reunite our lost familiarity and we both
longed for what was no longer there.
July 10, 1984
outside my window
the grass grows green and
motor cars, half seen, form
an ever changing canvas of
colors and reflected light;
outside my window
are other buildings with
other windows and people
who wonder why my
window is so special;
outside my window
are endless roads of
imagination and undrawn
cartoons by nameless artists
whose still life's of life
distract only a few;
outside my window
I see myself and my
image wonders why we
look alike and if my sight
affects his point-of-view.
July 2, 1984
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