HAUNTED

She sees him standing by the edge
of the bar, getting another beer.
You can see the look of fear in her eyes:
his love has led to her demise.

But he doesn’t seem to care;
He doesn’t call her anymore
to help her lift herself
from the weathered, dirty floor.
All that remains are the stains of sorrow
to be swept away tomorrow
with what the patrons left behind.

His blank stare penetrates the smoky air
and the smell of defeat emerges from
the embers of her cigarette:
she finds it harder and harder to forget
the man who said he’d die without her.

Just like the love they once shared—
placed aside without a care,
like the empty glass on the bar.
As she looks up to pay the tab
she realizes that’s all she had
and he was never really standing there.

(JUNE, 2005)

A SOUTHERN LULLABY

Sweet serene, plush green
Slow movin’, slow speak’n
“Ya’ll ever been?”

Overlook the trailers,
cinder block stops,
houses with dust crops,
and pay attention to the
tranquility of the Tennessee,
lightly grabbing the edge of
the river bank.

Down home cookin’—
Soup beans, collard greens, mashed taters, punkin’ pie.
Grandma in her yellow-checkered apron
tellin’ stories ‘bout the young.
Grandpa on the front porch with the boys
smokin’ his pipe with his yellow-stained hands,
tellin’ stories ‘bout the War and talkin’ sports.

Never mind the mayhem inside our city limit—
we are surrounded by the setting sun,
beaming through the trees,
blanketing the grass with a deep orange haze.
All the chores are done.

The humming of the cicadas begins
and darkness is on the rise.
The summer breeze begins to blow
as Grandma and Grandpa close their eyes.

(MAY, 2005)

INSANITY

It’s the fear of seeing you that keeps me behind closed doors,
It’s being without you that has me on my floor.
It’s the hope that someday soon you will call,
It’s the disappointment that washes over me when I hear nothing at all.

It’s the fire burning deep within my heart,
It’s being without you that is tearing me apart.
It’s lying in my bed with thoughts streaming through my mind,
It’s the feeling of helplessness and being left behind.

It’s wandering the street across our hometown,
It’s the essence of you that is weighing me down.
It’s the wonder if you have these thoughts late at night,
It’s the feeling it isn’t over but for now it just isn’t right.

It’s the hope that someday you’ll see me the way I see you,
It’s knowing we’re a perfect union:  a blending of two.
It’s catching my breath knowing you’re not there,
It’s knowing you left me and don’t seem to care.

(January, 2002)