Your secret. I found.

I know your secret.
I found the shell that caught the wind
that carried your whisper
across the ocean.
Your lips
My ear

Language lacrosse.

Written Friday, March 23rd, 2012.



Photo taken Sunday, December 18th, 2011.

Soon, we will meet.

Soon, we will meet.
520 Bridge, West
Seattle, WA


we will meet, soon.

our eyes will catch a shared gaze —

the words will fall and stop, as they will;
and the world will feel the same.

the bliss of blissful moments will surf on fluffy and lemony-chiffon waves,

there will be days                 that end                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  and begin with haunting exhaustion;

alone smiles will feel the same – warm and wide and certain.

our eyes will meet
and meet,
and meet, and meet.

When we listen.

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When we listen. ::: Gallery.
Collection: Behind the Wheel.
Seattle, WA
April, 2010

Snap in the lens, and take a peek.
Do you see what I see?

The paint has been peeling;
where once was gold
is kitschy opportunity.

But listen,
if rock bands are willing to reunite,
we have a chance.

If we provide kids the room to think, to speak,                                                                                                                                              to dance, to disagree,
our universal depth of vision,
is deeper than we think.

Behind the waterfall, as you age.

Behind the waterfall, as you age.
In the back seat, at night, somewhere on I-5.

As you age,
don’t lose or forget it.
As you age, and jade,
and bleed, scab, scar,
-and fall again.

Don’t lose or forget it.

It will cradle you
when the world shakes
and seems so big.
It will keep you
in your secret cave
behind the waterfall.

(For Noonie-Noo.)

(Poem written on Lake Washington Blvd in Madrona, Seattle: 4.16.10)