Thank You
For Kathie

You spoke of Guatemala,
of sitting in the sun
and staring at the lizards,
talking to small creatures,
one time a dragonfly
that circled your head five times--
you called and called, each time 
the dragonfly came back.

I have beckoned your story many times. 
It always returns, friend,
sometimes even when 
I forget to call.





Dream in which we Spoke at the Bottom of a River


This was after you disappeared 
from life. The words we spoke
were slippery as trout. They sank like river stones.

They sank like river stones,
slippery but real. I finger them in pockets
because you disappeared.

-First appeared in Broad River Review.




Anniversary


I am a dot on the map.
Let's say Minot, North Dakota.
You are a bigger deal,
maybe Moline. The distance between us
is a thin blue line 
whose crooks and curves cradle 
truck stops and old diners. 
Every now and then,
a couple shares the same side
of a corner booth and wetly 
breathes into a nervous 
first kiss and the rumble 
of semi-trailers flutters 
in their guts and never
will they go back home 
to the same cool beds.

-First appeared in Enizagam.