A late night, driving home

A late night, driving home, 
some meeting, a club, an organization 
I’m obligated to, expected at,
donate my time for, too much time.
The late night radio, turned
down low, softly plays the old
songs of my younger self
and dredges up some old memories,
the ones that resurface 
from time to time, the pain
and the heartbreak of a future
that didn’t happen, not
like I’d hoped, planned for
even. I miss those days.

My eyes well up now at an old
song, our song, and I shut 
out the tears that would fall,
but they spill over, the excess 
I can’t hold back, wiping away
the moisture on my cheeks,
remembering. The only obligation 
I had was her. 

Spring is a settling

Spring is a settling

of our lives again,

like the snow that melts

in the warmth

of the season changing

and gives way to blossom.

a hazed memory

Dim lights blend with muted colors

and shadows amidst the music

and noise of teens dancing, heavy

shoes on a wooden floor, drumming

and pounding into one hazed memory

of decades long gone by: standing alone,

this wall-flower, a young man fades

dark against a darkening wall.

It’s a memory that feeds his loneliness,

even now as time, these decades passing

and moving forward, year after year,

a wall-flower still, pressed flat,

faded and gray, a loneliness growing

in the darkness of a hazed memory.

Happy Birthday

On my birthday cake, each year hence,

I don’t want one more candle added, set ablaze,

but only a single candle, just one,

the thin waxy ones of my youth and childhood,

those spiraling pastels stuck into a rich

frosting, foamy peaks of gooey sweetness

smeared on my face, coloring my cheeks with chocolate,

just one candle, lit, its flame a-flickering,

waxy teardrops dripping down, slowly melting

this single candle held upright, not as

a reminder of time passing, old age gaining

on us, one more year gone by

and moving us closer to the grave,

but a single candle flickering to celebrate

this single life I’ve lived, still burning,

just a single wish for my life

moving onward, well beyond a candle snuffed

or blown out to seal the wish:

each year hence, a single candle,

what I want, just one,

on my birthday.

Late Winter Wind

A late winter wind

let loose

races across the field

and rises up, over the banks

and across the road to the tree

tops and roof tops beyond,

cleansed by the swirling snow

it carries, carried away

toward spring.