Walk by the Reservoir

Fall bleeds its chill into midsummer rain.
I defy the encroaching season,
refuse to change my sandals for suffocating shoes.

This splash of moisture was the ocean a moment ago .
I am digging my painted toes into the warm gold sand of memory,
denying this momentary chill its power.






Photo: mine, Glenmore Reservoir, Calgary AB, July 29, 2013

not a preacher

I come from a long line of preachers, I used to say
kinda wanna be one, I used to wish
but when I think of preachers I used to know,
I recall the ones who've fallen

up front on a pedestal, in front of God and everybody
the higher you go, the farther to fall
the harder to keep your balance
I better keep my feet on the ground

whisper truth and love right there
across the table to where you sit, stir
that cup of coffee with laugh-lightener, tear-sweetener
(gimme a double-double of that brew)

lips busy on the sip, my ears hear you
my heart captures your drift
knits our conversation into a net
ready for the catch of the day

so if I lose my balance
your words hold me
and if you lose yours
we both fall with grace

Night Light

Just after the sun conquers the eastern horizon,
before the mountains win in the west,
the magic hour casts its lumens
like the pink dress or golden hair of a young girl

I am five, stare with child-wonder,
pivot from east to west, sparking bright
light mirrored in my face from infinite prairie
to snowcapped peaks

There is no darkness
no measurable blackness
only, with time, comes the absence of light
to my sight, to my heart

Yet the Light is always shining
it is my perspective that changes
hold that child-wonder in the night
the morning is a breath away