“Run and be free. 

Look both ways 

before crossing the street”.

My instincts 

but sometimes I forget.

I’m so absorbed

with Jack Kerouac’s On the Road

or when I’m in the middle

of a thousand projects

and I’m running

through “a maze

of twisting little passages”. 


It’s not all these things.

I have changed 

since the cherry blossoms.

When I see any flower

my memory of you returns.



The formal education of holding your hands

To experience softness and delicacy of an early afternoon

Silent murmurs of kittens playing in the kitchen

Slow boiling broth on the stove

Your shyly approving eyes

And mind calculating the cooking time

When will dinner be?

But then it may not be so important

When there are other things to think about.


note: I wrote this poem 2010. I don’t know if I have posted it before.