Long Gravel Road: a moment of Isolation and Connection

I followed a truck

            down a long gravel road

      (of course, it kicked up dust

                  from the road

            a frustration, as I couldn’t keep

                  the windows down

      (I tried, but the dust-coughing

                  was too much))

they set up camp over there

            the rv, the atv, the generator

I can hear them

      but can’t see what they’re up to

maybe they hear me

            only when I laugh out loud

                  at what I’m reading

            (a book about death, pain, & sorrow)

      but I doubt it

     

without knowing it, I came here

      for isolation

the phone’s turned off,

      but on wouldn’t make a difference

            since the connection doesn’t reach this valley

no connection leaves room for connection

      to breath

      to aroma

      to noises

            that don’t penetrate the city

      to the waning light

            or the encroaching dark

      to the desert cold

                  that’s about to chase me into

            the tent that I’ve set up where

                  morning’s sun will wake me early

in time to get back out

      down that long gravel road

Darkness: of Eclipses, or Relationships

It happens

it’s not a secret

            it doesn’t come as a surprise

      it’s obvious to those who

                  allow themselves to pay attention

it would be dark soon

      for some, the darkness is barely noticeable

      for others it’s obvious

                  like a bruised rib

            you can ignore it, but I can’t

      and there are those who couldn’t miss it

            except that their eyes were closed

            except that they kept themselves from seeing

                  the waning light

we who have seen the darkness

            with our own eyes

      felt it

            in our own skin

      experienced it

            at the center of our being

hope that it will pass

            sooner or later

then, as soon as it’s done,

      we wonder when the darkness will return

One Year: of Divorce (and Mixed Metaphors)

Numb

      weeks and weeks of numb

one day

      papers were signed voiding vows

one day initially pervasive confusion (the not-sure-what-this-means)

      made space for numb

months of numb occasionally made way for

            emotional nausea

      as if feeling had gotten tipsy

            eaten nachos

                  and couldn’t get off the amusement park ride

when occasional became frequent

      numb would have been welcome

there were moments, though

            when numb and nausea

      were set aside for

            (not joy happiness contentment)

      forgetting

then, for just long enough to notice

      joy happiness contentment snuck into the forgetting

            a confusing welcome surprise

      & joy happiness contentment

            like the sun above a hazy morning

      began to peek through

***

one day recently I stopped, noticing that I couldn’t recall a bad hour

      over the previous 240 …

            of course, day eleven fixed that

I still expect clouds

      at the same time, I’m also starting to expect sun