NaPoWriMo 2025 - day ten

We didn’t almost have it all after all.
When the children left we had to rediscover ourselves.
I suggested birdwatching.
You suggested cross-country skiing.
How easily we fall into distraction.
It’s too easy to always blame our phones.
We can’t always lose ourselves to pleasure.
At some point the hard work begins.
The direct and plain work of devotion:
with my body I thee worship.
I suggested we kiss more often.
You suggested we take more walks.
We find new ways to empty or fill the days.
We measure our reserve and return to it.
Full of patience or resignation or hope.
The hidden and dislocated things.
Whispering around the edges of our waking.
How they are fragile, broken with just a sound.
I suggested there should be more poetry.
You suggested there were already too many words.

NaPoWriMo 2025 - day nine

i asked a question
you would not answer

(it’s none of your business)

(you said)

you asked a question
i would not answer

(how is that your business)

(i said)

i asked a question
i would not answer

(that’s my business)

(and?)

you asked a question
you would not answer

(that’s your business)

(even so)

(turnabout’s fair play)
(i said)

you would not answer

a question you asked

(i don’t trust you. yet)
(you said)

i would not answer

a question i asked

(we need some secrets)
(i said)

i would not answer

a question you asked

(that’s one's still fresh)
(i said)

you would not answer

a question i asked

(we are all wounded)
(you said)

NaPoWriMo 2025 - day eight

i can’t help thinking that
in some cultures
we would sit closer together
touching
 
we would share a meal
reach into the same bowls
sing the same songs
or learn the words
 
we would talk of our families
where they came from
the things we wish
for those we love
 
perhaps we would sit in silence
let our bodies tell the stories
slowly leaning into each other

NaPoWriMo 2025 - day seven

every time i eat an orange
i wonder why i don’t eat oranges
more often
 
i mean a good orange,
not those dry, pulpy, tasteless
soulless versions of an orange
you get at your local Safeway
 
i mean an orange,
skin thick enough to peel
pith from the inner fruits, sticky
finger carpels easily separated
 
the flesh firm between your teeth
juices bursting in your mouth
so sweet you forget to savour it
(i will admit to some involuntary sounds)
 
--but this is enough talk of oranges,
how to peel one, how some are bitter and
some are sweet; then again,
i may not be speaking of oranges.

NaPoWriMo 2025 - day six

There is always one more thing to grieve,
One more memorial to loss.

The friend who turns away or
The one where distance and time
Create silence and it keeps growing
Ever and more awkward.
The thing placed in our hands that beats
With joy and somehow that holding
Becomes grasping and desperate
Without any space at all.

It is always someone or
Something turning strange—
The connection corroded,
Eaten away piece by piece,
Choice after choice;
Cowardice instead of courage.

Would that I were made of
Braver stuff. I am not
A hard man, though I have hardened.
I miss more things than I thought
I would have at this age. I thought
I was finished with this longing.