I keep a journal that is comprised of daily poems written from experiences and observations.
Today’s poems are about some interesting people.
Her second motherhood is loving management
of this old theatre. She cares too deeply
for her own material good, but perhaps
perfectly for her instinctive needs.
Now you’re gone, former friend, so long unseen,
is it even a friend I’ve lost, or only a memory’s face?
Continents break apart, adrift to a distance
too great for the building of bridges back.
Winds at night sweep lost leaves in dark circles.
And you, my friend, lost in black cycles neither of us understand
and only you can see. I’m elsewhere, in sunshine,
not knowing how to bring the light to you.
He returns alive from his heart’s rebellion.
A battle closely fought and barely won.
The struggle scarring his face with aging.
Eyes hollowed from a long look at last days.
The stars aligning for that one
excite my imagination as much as her hopes.
I tell her: throw the door wide, see all there is,
and let your step across the threshold be a stride.