each day arrives with
a never before equation
each day parts
without hesitation
life holds time's hand

It's cold outside.
I pick a day from the past
choose a few moments from it
and make myself a fire.
Rummaging among words

Why the days play the day
like a tape
I've heard just a few days ago?
Why when the evening
touches your memory

one day
i won't wake up
to begin another day of living
that i love so much

I stand, my hand
gently waking the old wooden gate.
Before me, across the startled lawn
my little house looks at me
through the weeds, askance.

Riding a jerky montage of daily chores
I trundle towards a sunset
waiting to add my fire to its coals.
Hope leaks through day-tight rooms
spilling over tomorrows
that struggle to become today.

Time washed us shores apart.
Miles that shores stretch
sometime somewhere fetch
a puddle in time the size of a dime
that draws you up close, nose to nose,
memories struggling in the eyes.

Every touch
becomes the orgasm of life itself
and in its throes, you and I
become one, an island
tossing on its swollen seas.
Time storms through moments
that surf its pleasure.

‘tis said strangers
are ships
passing in the night.
some dare to lay anchor
close to each other.
to explore
the waters around them.
often they do not regret.