And When It Comes Undone

And when it comes undone,
it is not the end.
It is the beginning, an opportunity
to remake, recreate, rebecome
something not as good,
but better.

This is not to suggest, however
that allowing rot to win
in a recommended practice,
but should it sneak up on you
and fall apart, you may be surprised
at the miracle that emerges.

About this poem

Life comes undone. We get a redo. We can do the same thing or make something new.

When my life came undone a decade and a half ago, I tried doing the same for a short while, and then changed course and letting life remake itself. What I have now is far different, and far better.

Who knew?


PS – the picture was taken at an abandoned factory in Turner’s Falls, MA.

Poem: And in the Evening


And in the Evening

Sit with me.
Let me feel your warmth
as the sun sets.
Your head on my lap.
The soft rise and fall of your chest
as you sleep,
As one.

About this poem

There is a special intimacy when someone sleeps close to you. An intimacy born in safety.



Poem: Second Summer


Second Summer

Summer light.
A road.
A journey, in the lush summer,
languid, slow and heated.

Along the road, a river runs.
Water dances as you dangle your feet
of the edge of ancient rocks.

Her voice is music,
part of the summer lushness,
a surprise, each day she loves you

here in the summer of your life,
a second season, unexpected as age,
and welcome beyond rationality.

About this poem

This past weekend was one of those times when plan after plan blew up. Two groups of friends that we expected for the weekend, didn’t make it for various reasons. An art show I had planned to show in got rained out.

But in the end, we had a lovely weekend. Time together, just the two of us, is precious, and when it is as unexpected as the love itself, there is a special joy in it.

It has taken me a long time to embrace joy again. I can’t tell you how much it means to me now. But I try.


Poem: What Matter, Rain


What Matter, Rain? 

It is raining outside.
But you are in,
gently in love.

The light is dim and colorless,
but around her, a light glows
from within.

Outside, everything glistens, wet and cold
The cat comes in, water droplets on her whiskers.
But you are dry and warm curled up next to her.

This is love.
It does not make life perfect,
only, always, better.

It is raining outside.

About this poem

A love poem to start my Saturday.

I had an outside art show planned for today. The rain and wind canceled it out. All my art, tents and tables are sitting in the back of my old Isuzu Trooper, where they will stay till the rain stops. No selling art for me today.

But I have more time with my bride and it will be a slow, together kind of day.

Things work out. They work out better with her in my life.


Poem: Nothing Else Matters


Nothing Else Matters

Push the world aside.
Find a place for just you, and I,
a place where we can talk, one to the other,
a place of listening for breath and soul
and the electricity of touch, one hand on the other.

Set aside the noise. Push aside the crowd.
There is you, and I. Nothing else matters
save the sound of two souls slowing down
and rediscovering each other again,
again, and always

About this poem

Too often we say certain things matter most, but act as if they don’t.

A love poem. The woman I love has been away a couple of days and returns this afternoon.

A poem of spirit. For too often life is too busy and too noisy for us to find God in the mix.

You choose. Or don’t. It’s OK for things to have more than one meaning.


PS – The picture was taken at the Wiburton Inn in Manchester, VT.