I want to dig
a loving finger
into your gorgeous
red encasing
and peel
back the rind.

More gems here
than I imagined,
stacked in crimson
clusters and bursting
to be tasted. Disco ball
of jeweled revelations,

nectar, sweet
and tannic, drip down
my open throat,
each small seed
an understanding,
like I am tasting

Beyond the Ruins

In a morning desert
where the red rocks hang
from the misty remnants
of last nights storm,

up and up
between the
shrouded clouds
and into the silent blue,

the canyon opens
like the ancient mouth
and whispers the thing
that you have always known.

And so you
stop to listen
as if your life
depended on it,

which certainly it does,
then mount your
wheeled horse and pedal fast
over rocks and sand,

as the world behind you
disappears into the revelation
of a perfect yellow
winter sun.

Do You?

On an afternoon drive,
there is nothing to say except,

It was I
who ate the cookies,
and filled the stockings, I

who left a trail of half eaten
carrots on the lawn.
And furthermore,

twas I
who left the bill
and took the tooth,

but do you see the road ahead?
A mirage!  See how it
reflects the passing cars!

So tell me,
do you still believe
in magic?