A Future Landscape

Unused days
stack ahead of me.

Untold events to happen.
Conversations to be had.
Places to be visited.

Revelations hidden
in the intricate web
of neurons inside
my dark-haired head.
Wisdoms biding their time.

But for now,
I look out
towards the waiting life
ahead of me
like a landscape
whose beauty
I cannot quite comprehend.

The Nightly Gatherings Of My Beloved Alley Cats

The alley cats
congregate,
discussing politics.

They act out
great love affairs
and tragedies.

I watch,
like a God,
from my second story
window.

Nighttime in the Neighborhood

In the darkest
of night.
Feeling the chill.

Listening to the neighborhood
sprinklers switch on and off.
A flood.

Coyotes and raccoons
scamper through the
suburban sprawl.

It's nice to have these moments
alone.

Observing the environment.

The local ecosystem.

A Distant Beginning

Images of this life,
or perhaps the next,
dance on
my delicate eyelids.

Another world begins
as this one falls
to its knees.
Blood spreading
in a puddle.

Lights are beginning,
lit somewhere
out there.

While our lights
are dimming
fast.

Ancient Language of the Owls

Owls hoot
every night
in the tree
outside my
bedroom.

Speaking to me
in some ancient
language.

The urgency
in their tone
is alarming.

I feel a deep need
to decipher
these midnight calls.

Their heads
turn round.
Eyes bright,
gems against the
dark tangle
of branches.

A New State Of Being

Walking until
my feet bleed
numb.

But my mind
is clear.

A room of mirrors
ice cold.

The truth shines in
bright and quick
like a deep cut.

My illusions
are shattered.

Before the blood wells
thick.

Before I return.

Ghosts Swim

Invisible hands
outreached
in the ink depths
of the nighttime
swimming pool.

I tiptoe around the edge
just out of reach.

Darkness transforms
the aquamarine chlorine
into a sinister
void.

I see the line between
our world
and theirs
but I never step any closer.

The Deadliest Sin

The ultimate sin:
to end someone.

To end
their constant
inner monologue.

To end
their vessel of years
and years
of memories.

To murder
is a powerful act.
Often not considered
in its full
magnitude.

Until the trigger pulled
or afterward,
the blade wiped clean.