To Identify Time of Death

Mostly diluted
Ever so
A tad bit acidic
I was given a chance to feel
Instead I got intoxicated,

Left knowing but distant
Always unable to conceal intention
Drowning in vegetative stories
Remember when?

Loss is a virtue often experienced
Yet so rarely noticed-
Does nature understand
That I feel death as ferns in freezing weather?
As blissful white clouds floating
Such that heaven seems earth-bound?

A shoulder to breathe
Sober up nestle nude against cedar tree trunk
Ever so fleeting
It makes sense doesn’t it?
It is absence that becomes the burden
The memory that provides relief
And this body of mine
Is nothing but never present,
Stuck turning rich nectar
Into watered-down interpretations of flowers
In bloom, delaying impact inevitably
A world concocted with jaded connotations

Life has been made
Continues to exist
Going to cities and learning to keep secrets,
People have spoken to this face of mine
Loves lost and renewed
Though a daydream it seems

Waiting to wake up
Upon the snap of two brittle fingers
Will I remember the past four years?

Apparently

For Friday and possibly for always

Pose a question
Mark bent into exclamation
Rushed from asunder stumbled to gather

A glass of lemonade
With dashes of lavender
Would be refreshing
Sipped through an initial burst of feeling piqued
Something once experienced
Rusted over
An accident aged and placed on the shelf
Of an antique shop

Unrecognizable
as water reflects the presence of health
In the absence of body,

Mackinac waited for us,
Waved as the car drove over Michigan
Spoke softly to Huron
An understanding
Listen clearly
Possibly always

The tongue protects memory
Wrapping each with degradation
Of reality and actuality
Placing a fire where
There was none before
Ward off sharpened teeth
Smoke drenched
The bugs won’t bother,

Habitual garments worn for assurance
If visible it won’t be noticed,
Clothes kept close
Weighted with a slate scraped clean
Set the table and laugh
Everything said
Is all in my head
And so are so many
Other things

Sediment In A Wine Bottle

Estate sale personified
As swigs of sand dwindling through
Kaleidoscope irises, slipping sunsets into palms cut
Acting in assumption that such wounds
Close, fade and then ambiguous definitions of normalcy
Can be resumed again
Acting in assumption such pain halts
And forgives the body it accumulates,
Clothes become too big
Fabric promised protection
Sworn, left unnoticed
Dedicated life to living beneath stale socks almost
Visible but kept dark and almost given a chance,
Embraced auctions for relinquishing redemption
Based offers observed pretended to be valuable,
Feign colour polarity
Pallet set
Sleep on hoping prosperity flourish
And wither slip into an unintentional hibernation
Waiting for-but wake up it’s time to move on
Waiting for-but wake up
Quoted as in decline
Liquidate property as hospital visits

Fishing on Father’s Day

A reconciliation
Of distance and never being able
To remember,
A reflection is a montage of loss
Like a time lapse of all the faces
I will wear,
None of them will connect
Days to form years
And certainly not offer
An explanation for why
Clothes now provide
More than just warmth in the winter,
Timeline broken apart
Struggling to assemble the fossil record
Of my former self
How can someone be
The sum of their parts
When the pieces are intangible
Objects that breathe more life
On their own
Than when collected?
Escaping recognition
Facing the mirror again,
Sometimes I see mountains
In the background,
Other times it’s a vivid forest
Full of beautiful unity
Never seeing a body
Rather,
All the places
My everything
Might be