Treaties

There is a line, drawn in the sand
across the plains and ice-cap mountains
through the sands and oceans
all the way to Egypt and Thailand
to Russia and China
This line changes color
and begins to fade
but every few years, it appears again.

Holes

My shoes make a dull, thudding sound on the asphalt as I walk
along the cracked skeleton concrete, leading to my cave-room
The air is empty and sucks the warmth, leaving a coolness
I shiver and stare at the yellow glow in the sky
and pretend that it is the moon

...Needs Editing

In that moment, I looked to my right and saw the BN vehicles, trucks as far as you could see; tanned and dusty along the bleached asphalt of the motor pool. The sky turned a bright blue with streaks of black. The wind blew against my face and cooled my skin; the sweat freezing and fading against my pores, my hair becoming damp. I walked along the row of war machines and thought of the year to come. We would be heading out soon, leaving this dusty hole, trading it for the fire.Our parents would see us off, like we are leaving for some twisted version of summer camp. There would be tears and sleepless nights. This is what it will all be like.

Post Script

I saw prairie fire in the sky tonight.
I watched it flicker and flame.
Finally, turning blue and purple.
Cooling the air and quieting my mind.
I wish you had been here to see it.
You should have been here.

Just A Thought

The great American Dream is not so much about the roads not taken or those frequented, for that matter. No, the spaces behind semi trucks and their smokestacks fill the areas we live in. This is our great American Dream.

Campfires

The fire casts
its spooky glow
upon the two
-young and dumb
groping hands
and blank thought
one thing
and that only
out of desire
black eyes
a torn sweater
doom and gloom
foreshadows
all that transpires
and the small stuff
in between
Death and Dying
The fire burns dull
and the children are
Gone
ashes and grey woods
blink black
and the air laughs

Closure

The day was overcast
cloudy
humid.

I ran to pack all of my things
always late
I was determined...to be on time.

The wetness in the air clung to my skin and I attempted to shake it
as I climbed into
the cab.

The door refused to shut
so I had to
give it a good - slam.

I spoke in code to the driver
and we were on our way
50 miles and hour - I refused to be late.

I looked down at my hands
hard and tanned
from yardwork.

My phone rang
and I
ignored it.

The window rolled down
the driver wanted
fresh air.

I suddenly remembered
what I
had to do.

The bouquet was dried
subtle dead colors
of the once - bright yellows and pinks.

I closed my eyes
and said a prayer
as I untied them.

The ribbon was the first
to go
out the window.

Next
the daisies
roses -

out of the car
lush and sprinkling
in the air

I watched them fly
onto the asphalt
and gutter

I watched them fly
and didn't think of you
or that day

I chose to live
in the cab
refusing to be late.