The Silver Lake
Missed Connections in Brooklyn
The Silver Lake
the heart of a solitary traveler
is littered with
many
accidental, colliding chances
along with the memories
of all those
dances
with poets, scholars, wolves
and the moon
and the bright red desert
on a warm day
in june
and deep in a lake
up high on the
moon
lies a silver suitcase
filled with all of
his
forgets and
plans
along with the dreams
he forgot, to
forget
Her Two Cents
Tree branches and plant roots, circulatory systems, fractals. Is there a difference between gazing skyward and peering into a still water reflection? Countless and ever-growing are the things we remember and the things we forget; reality, imagination, and the memories existing between. What does your silver suitcase hold?
