more poetic asides
PORTLAND (Written 4/12/2010)
My dream,
lived within your borders.
The way you made me feel
smart, hip and
grown-up.
Its not clear
if you are still my dream.
Since every little thing
I had planned, changed.
Though my future altered,
I still think of the rain.
The leafy pathways.
The excitement of exploring
your unique and cracked streets.
I can't wait to wander again,
looking at you with these new eyes.
Who knows what treasures I'll find.
“Hand” (Written 4/8/2010)
Soft, light, lingering
to
rough, strong, deep.
Amazing in its intricacy
and yet forgotten in the norm.
Hold my hand
and together we can build anything.
Lonely (Written 4/1/2010)
It isn't in every moment
not even in the car
when your song is on the radio.
My quiet moments are peaceful
soft, delicate whispers of the future.
When I sleep alone...
my hand does not reach out.
Its in the middle of a crowd
when everyone laughs
Or in the swell of the music
when the plot thickens.
The memories rush back
reminding me of those nights
alone, listening to the rain.
Wishing I could find any distraction
from that lonely, sad winter.
I watch the wind blow
the sun is out.
I don't always escape our memories
but I am thankful for spring.





