long black hair

there was a woman
at the café
who kept brushing
her long black hair
tossing it back
over her shoulder
the way I’ve see
you do
sitting in your house shirt
in our bedroom
the same motion
before you would blow
a kiss
my way
I am lost
in memories
of you
a slight reworking under different circumstances but the motion, the memory the same

Harry standing eight

he is up, up
swaying slightly
as if in a strong wind
though no wind blows
through the rooms
that make up his home
just the wind of memory
and regret
of lost moments
failed promises
and hope gone missing
from his door

a picnic: for Chuck & the plant lady

she said
let’s have a picnic
you know
a blanket and we
egg salad sandwiches
warm ice tea
crumb cake a thermos
of Constant Comment Tea
fun in the shade
of an old apple tree
plastic forks napkins
for you and me
and ants flys mosquitoes
oh what glee
ah life is so different
for you for me