de•sire line

1. The route people most naturally and instinctively take as they pass through a space.

To Good To Not Be True

on that night
I forgot my undershirt at the base of your bed
I forgot all that came before you

on that night
the moon was eclipsed by the earth
it was dyed a Mars crimson
but we missed it

quite heedless and free
these moments were lost
amidst the green flowered fields of your sheets

"this night air reminds me of summertime stargazing"
I'd say as if recalling a season
we've not yet shared

on that night
the whiskey essence on your tongue got me drunk
we listened to vinyl and each other
and began

New York City, 2007

Tonight brought glorious cold augmented by the clear sky and distant stars. Tree limbs still sheathed in ice cracked in a wind's sway as would the rope of a tire swing almost too old to bear a child consumed with oblivious joy.

There exists a peace in the close crunch of snow underfoot and breath made visible, and the trees, if you can find them, would be your audience frozen in attentiveness. Come Spring they will finally take a breath

We need it soon. Too many plastic bags, the extent of our wildlife, have come to roost and settle these limbs.