A Poem for Chester

A new aged man,

     touching ancient mossy stone,

walking alone, but not as one,

with ghosts of Romans. 

     Our conquerors and conquests,

     are our own. 

Walls, bridges, and fortifications

     of old. 

What are we trying to keep out-

What we are trying to connect to.

One Walks

To be one in a crowd, 

the solitude, the shroud. 

The mind begging

to scream out loud.

Hello, hello, echo, 

smile and echo away.

To move and not be moved.

I’m still here, I’m here still. 

The One I Don't Want to Name (Untitled)

Pulling water from my eyes,

I grew a thirst for the

Rain of English skies.

She put a spanish seed in my brain,

The desire grew and I flew to Spain.

She started a dance

That kept me in trance,

Then sent me spinning to France.

Slip away into the night,

Slip away into the garden,

Slip away into the flight.