there’s so much we leave

unfinished

without a way to stop

time or the will to hold

back the torrents

that wear us down

like boulders beneath rapids

or sand along the coast

there are pockets

of calm inside us awaiting

the touch of sunlight or

kind words or the surprise of flight

if we can hold on

long enough

My body is building defenses

against dark things with layers

upon layers of alternate timelines

where sometimes the heart beats

swimmingly and sometimes it beats

sluggishly – or skips altogether –

and the nerve endings feel like

they’ve been filed down to bare nubs

and my head keeps growing

from the inside, heavy with knowing less

but seeing more and there’s a small space

in reserve for dreams that gets pushed

this way and that but I hold firm

to the one thing I won’t lose.

music ricochets off the stone wall 

thumping like mathematics on the playground 

smoke peeks through her hair 

finding no solace 

among far too many lonely afternoons 

roads wait to be paved 

old men wait for the news 

dogs circle their favorite spots 

the kid still thinks there’s a future 

but his mom is tired 

and the shadows have grown long 

there’s still tomorrow for now 

and if we’re lucky 

we’re dancing on the inside