love, like true love
the subject of far too many
first lines, and
more than enough poems
stanzas sick of violet talk
flowery blind fools trippin
on sips of breath and sighs and kisses
i miss myself
caring so much about the other
forgetting the sister
inside this soul
these lungs and heart
the only reason my spring is sprung
my name is rung
by the ring of a sunrise
i am calm, not surprised
by the changes happening
life rearranging before these eyes
small rhymes and ties that bind
a spring in my step
left foot in front of right foot
and so on, go on,,,
on the ground
heart bowed, hands high in hallelujah
give thanks for the breath
and not eschewing
these moments for sparks
illuminating this life
these moments for knives
sharpening this life
daily grind on the whetstone
make these bones live
i am
i walk on
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