Before I'm Swallowed by Sleep

Massive Old Oak Tree - seen on Coon Creek docent hike, Montaña de Oro, 18sept2008 - Leader: Jerry Kirkhart
Originally uploaded by mikebaird

It's late. I just got home from a night out with a dear friend. I will leave you with this poem. When I was growing up, I was fortunate (mostly,) to have grown up in a rural neighborhood with a group of adventurous kids. I have many fond memoirs of those days, including those of my first "crush." While there was never any future for us, we did some fun and crazy things, and this poem is one of many in tribute to the boy that I knew then.

It Always Comes Back to This

left arm scarred
cinder-block burn
a scraped escape
one hiding place
to the next

two in a tree
bark-brushed thigh
a chance maneuver
and blood chills
under the wind

love's agonizing scrutiny
these left-overs
nothing but empty
shells litter the earth
spilled seed pods
scatter with the
same breath
that says goodbye.

Maybe your Saturday linger as long as you like, unless you have to work, in which case, I hope it flies.