Ventana: An Exercise

The Window is white
It is taller than I am
When I hang curtains.
It sits across from my desk
Which sits under my bed
And when the sunrises it turns
Them both orange.
I can see anything through
The clear glass.

White fabric falls from
The top of my window it’s
Cotton and clean.
There is snow and rain
Sunshine, too, outside.
Broken into pictures by the glass panes.
Open and close the
Gateway into a new world
Everything is there.

No matter how cold the glass feels
From inside, outside of the window it is
Always spring.
In the late summer
The wind blows through mesh screen and
Smells of fresh cut grass.
It is safe behind the window when the wind howls
Or when the rain pounds—
Nothing can get through the glass.

I look and see my
reflection in it’s panes like
crystal clear water.

It’s always as open or as closed
As I want it to be.
The locks at the top
Can keep other people out
and keep me in.

(Drips)

Raindrops
.
.
.
.
on my forehead
down my nose
over my lips
soaking through brown hair,
pink t-shirt, blue jeans.
soaking through my winter hardened skin.

Mud mucks
Grass tickling my ankles
wet between my toes
Silky, soft and tender.

Sonnellino

gentle breeze whispers
sacred soft grasshopper lullabies
they drift in my window
making the curtains dance and the
shiny plastic blades of the window fan
spin lazily
green grass fresh and soft with dew
heated by the sun send soft sweet aromas
mixing with summer barbeque and
slightly coated with the memory of rain
water tastes electric on
warm summer days slight perspiration
rolling along the hairline
as naptime arrives and the world is refreshingly
at peace.

Sunday Afternoon

I.
Bed covered in blankets, sun pours in.
In the refrigerator for breakfast there are plums and milk.

II.
Couch covered in a blanket
baseball at 3, movie at 9.
for dinner, Hound Dog's pizza and wine.

III.
Lawns in the neighborhood watered by a sprinkler,
a lazy walk together, wearing caps in the sun.

Grasping Moonlight

(This one is exceptionally rough. Any suggestions/kind rejections are welcome.)

Grasping Moonlight

I would not trade one kiss from you
(not for a billion from anyone else)
no one could ever make me see stars
or feel the hundred different things I feel when your lips touch
mine again.

I wish I had something to hold you
(something more than time)
you are moonlight and
no matter how hard I try I feel you slipping away.

I can never put my finger on the specific
emotion
(that one I feel when I look into your eyes)
but I always seem to feel
like I am safe and home again.

You are a feeling
of contentment in my heart
(you are peace of mind)
and you are fantastic
just the way you are.
I will hold
your hand while I can.

When the sunsets in your eyes
(there are a thousand sunrises in your smile)
and the world fades away for just a few moments
I can be safe in your arms and
be me.

You are a wish
(a Pablo Neruda
poem) come true in my life
and you helped me feel and love
when I was afraid of both
and I will never forget
all you've done and
all you've meant.

Summertime Blues

I miss the barefoot
Bare-shoulder days,
The sun brushed mornings
Lazy hot afternoons,
Firefly nights;
Late night bar-b-que and
Al Green on the radio says
“Let’s Stay Together”.

Pink cheeks, nose,
Red lips dyed;
A Shirley Temple
Made by my Pop,
Extra cherries in
The bottom, a prize for finishing.

Watermelon seeds scattered
Rinds discarded on paper plates
Littlest children hiding in the bushes
From their parents;
Time for bed.

Drifiting up through the window
open mesh screen breezes
carry the laughter of the family
adults, caressing my sunspent body
to sleep.

Springtime Rain

Warm rainy weather seduces
My feet from their sneakers,
My arms from their sweaters
(my body from it’s shelter).

Sweet moist air curls the hairs
On my temples, soften my lips,
My winter skin. My flipflopped toes
squishy and muddy
(it delights me.)

I dream of always spring,
Rainy april forever green grass,
two feet full of freedom(found winter’s release).