Solstice

All of it cyclical,
Expansion, recession,
Biorhythms,
The wobbling of a spinning globe
Towards the sun
Then away from it

I lay awake in another long night
But I know that for the next
Six months
These nights, at least,
Get shorter

Santa Ana

Three thirty in the morning
And it's unseasonably warm
Beneath a sprawling fig tree
Its branches barren against the silver light;
The warm air moves,
Taking the last of the dry, yellow leaves
Pulling them from the now dormant limbs,
They fall to the ground, these little lonely hands
That once opened to the sky seeking warmth and sunlight
And now, cast away, they go where all things go when they die,
To be torn apart and used to feed other things:
The other lives that still go on

Riptide

I know, I know
The wave pulls you
Up along the face of it
And throws you back
Down to the bottom
The sand churning up from underneath
And the water below is cold,
Very cold,
And it's dragging you out to sea
You manage to get your head
Up over the water
You gasp for air and blink
And can see Catalina
Out in the distance
For a second before another wave takes
You up, spinning you again
And you look back at the shore
Getting smaller
Everyone seems so far away
And you can't hear yourself
Yelling over the roar of the ocean

I know all of this
Stop fighting it, I say
Stay below a second longer
And go with the current
Let it take you for awhile
It'll be okay
You'll come up beyond the breakwater
And you'll be able to breathe
Deeply, fill your lungs with air
And lay on your back for a minute
Look up at a clear blue sky
And just move with the current

These things, the water around you
The air you breathe
All they are is life
And you know how to move within them
You know it

Just catch your breath
And start swimming along the shoreline
It's quieter out here
I'm right next to you
Just swim to the sound of my voice
And you'll get where you want to be

I tell you all of this,
But you're not listening

Tomorrow

We walked out into the chilly night
Across a crowded parking lot,
I was walking you to your car,
We hadn't discussed it really,
We'd just started walking
And I was looking for your car,
Holding your hand
Closely, but gently
Your hand was there, with mine,
But it wasn't quite squeezing mine.
Yet.

Groundhog Day

A long winter, this,
The sun was out for a few days
And then retreated
It's morning and I'm in a suburban coffee shop
I don't drink coffee
But it was where you were,
And we were talking quietly
Amidst people buying coffee, scones, preparing for work,
I held your hand and it was warm
But felt somehow fragile
And we stole 25 minutes that way
And went back to our days,
You kissed me by your car
Quietly, softly, twice,
And then you were gone,
And I drove to the office under a grey sky
But it was okay,
Spring is coming.