The Party

A feast of drinks, laughters, and embraces
And the late hour. I felt
Carried in the softness of air and deep comfort
Deeper into nothingness.
I woke up with darkness breaking
Chairs, tables, chandelliers, photos on the walls appearing
It was not the particulars that were frightening
Or the suddenness that was bewildering
Or the dull argument I was visited by demons
It was the silence, surrounded by silence
The loneliness of waking, waking up alone.

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dawn of a nomad

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You carry barest
essentials in your backpack
and a fishing pole

Stay for awhile
Let’s share a bottle of wine
adventure can wait

restless imagination
settles in impermanence
toasting our future

Questions of where you’re
going and about my pursuit
follow our gestures

Filling our glasses
vintage follows another
narration starts

Is it hours, days?
stories after stories
blurring the edges

Comes day of goodbye
to seek, to find the unknown
dawn of a new mind.

note: a sculpture outside Fort Winery, Sonoma County, CA

Writing

The school resumes teaching cursive writing 
You can move ahead
Do not have to wait to be understood
 
Loveliness in the flowering foliage,
Writing brings concrete branches of particulars.
When you arrive from the directions of any realm
 
The studio will be waiting for you
The colors, brushes, pens
Dawn spreading after the rain.