He Gathers Pennies To Spend At The Store, Lowering His Voice, He Looks Down At The Floor And Says, “If

Ocean, I have a confession to make. I am just a small bird, a very small bird, You are endless and vast, How can I tell you I love you?

I have fallen in love with you deeply, As deep as your floors, your trenches; But you are so grand and I, Well I am just a bird, would you wave me off?

I have this fragile, mortal body And I am jealous of your infinite waters. How could you ever love me back When I exist for just one of your moments?

I am standing, twig legged, at your shore, I am watching the clouds kiss your horizon And I have never felt smaller, yet I am drowning in my adoration of you.

Since we are being vulnerable, And my feelings are likely unrequited, May I ask, Ocean, who is it you love? For whom does your body ebb and flow?

To think they were not together That they were never lead To merging paths To hold each other on nights So quiet and clear

To think they were not together In the warmest of hours The most joyous of holidays Longing fading still

That they were not together Is such a vast and endless void Their absence so tangible And thick as the air In the greenest stormy sky

To think they held hands But not each other's That they kissed lips That were not their own And called it a life

I knew a man from Salem Who lived in a very old home "My partner died last year," He told me, "And left me there alone."

"Come live with me, We'll fall in love slowly Like sleepy winter mice." I had to admit it seemed Like a dream That might have been very nice.

His smile was kind and shy, His eyes were soft and sad, They pleaded with me for comfort, An ember, A life we could have had.

She caught me watching her As she woke from sleep Hair messy on the pillow Naked under the sheets

"My little poet" she said "Write something for me" She smiled with her Unnaturally white teeth

Closed lipped I smiled back And grabbed some paper She stared at me as I grasped At anything to say for her

I jotted down lines Inspired by someone else She kissed me so deep So pleased with herself

I couldn't stand her lips And left her in bed Maybe she never wondered Who I wrote for instead

Two kayakers come To a fork in a river Each one takes a side Each one nods to the other

Neither knows how The other is doing Paddle, paddle, drift... Each one wonders a little

I was a child Unsure what it meant To be grown

I tried to learn The way Ducklings learn To swim

But I was Not quite a duck

It did not come Instinctively

I came into Myself differently Swimming Alternatively

I don't think I was meant for Predestined plumage

A small zen garden Sits on the therapist's desk To calm both of us

The baby turtles made a pact To run across the sand together To dodge the swarming birds And looming waves To swim out into the ocean forever

They made it to the sea intact Their shells now hardened So when a current tore them apart They thought they were tough Or that their love was pardoned

I will live alone Detached But I will be no spinster Perhaps instead A weaver Of loose threads That flow to me Over salty waves, making Their landing In the sands of a Beach I will never visit So the seagulls Will carry your damaged Pieces of fabric Home to me

I dropped him Like burnt toast, So suddenly Unwanted, Heartlessly Discarded, and I, The one who Neglected and Blackened him, Convince myself It was justified