October

brown oval leaves

hand shaped rocks with moss
signs of glaciers moving through
years ago

twigs, logs
scattered
from human intrusion
worsened by snowmobile, ski
trails

winter arrives
soon
signaling the last Maine winter
for me

dogs bound over alphabet trees 

canadian geese fly high below apostrophe clouds
a squirrel sits at attention

One Dream at a Time

One dream at a time

but wanting them all
patience is no friend

He has dreams too
and I see them in his eyes
How they feed him

Can you feel my dreams?
I want to speak of them
but do not

Can you see
the possibilities
I want to ask
as I bury my head in his shoulder

this face,
I turn up to you,
no one else on earth,
has ever seen. 

everything

rustling aspen leaves in the wind

wake me from deep, late waking sleep

the dream is still with me

I move closer
to the one
next to me
who has chosen
me.

I needed him this morning
next to me, and he was there
and wanted to be

these are not small matters,
they mean everything.

Sears catalog

The furniture of my future life 

was in the Sears catalog

and built in Nike shoe boxes
dioramas of perfection

no cinder block bookshelves
no metal pipes, wood for a desk.

In this future there were flowery drapes, a pine desk
beds with curtains and four posts
dish sets matched the flour container

towels matched bed linen
toothbrush holder matched soap pump

All my dreams matched perfectly

Today
nothing matches,
no flowers, no pine

Just landscape

Private Losses

When do you start
to forget the losses
you know
the losses that sustain you,
the losses that hold the bitterness
of the life you may have had
if everything worked out
as hoped

Hope

lost hope
through years of solitude

not bad years

well, maybe one,
when he said
you haven’t laughed in a long time

losses pass
as the sun rises over the divide

Can you name your private losses?

I can
but won’t
for they don’t matter

now.

In Vermont

On the day I wanted to be an artist
I walked into a poetry reading
at a small Rutland bookstore

a woman with long, gray hair
rings and earrings
reading a poem
she said,

I carry my life like a backpack.

This Much I Know

Some dreams just don’t come true

but still, you keep trying
thinking of the one way ticket back

and leaving it all behind