An old man reclines on a couch
Overlooking lake surrounded by
Mountains of trees, typing the last
Of a series of stories that somehow
Got published, read, and loved
A greyed dog curled up at his hips
A wife’s kiss fresh on his lips
Can we get there on this trip
Nothing is impossible with enough imagination.
Tell me you love me and I’ll believe
Ask those four words to show it
And my dear, you’ll always know it
We run hard when we can
Through fields of broken
Dreams, pasts and years
Towards a future we fear
I feel like I just fifty pounds on my shoulders
She said, a cigarette in her trembling hand
I brought her in my arms with a gentle tug
You’re never ready when a parent wants to die
We spent an entire car ride
Talking about things we’d
Rather live through again
Than watch Dark Phoenix
The street lights rolled over
Your bare feet on the dash
And I kept thinking that this
Is better than I could ask for
Dreams become simpler as we age
Once I wanted a million stars
In my hands, twinkling forever
Now you lay your head in my lap
And fall asleep before me
As I write variations of our story
Maybe one day people will read
It’ll bring them a peace
When the skies are stormy
He owed it to her to watch all the way through.
Sometimes love is wild and passionate
Sometimes it’s sweet and slow
Sometimes it’s letting you sleep
And guarding your sweet repose
The first humans killed with their hands. The last will, too.
Please be real
Be true
Forever is a long time
Without you
He wrapped himself in the comfortable blanket of anonymity and bourbon.
The good, the bad
The indifferent
We’ll deal with it all
Just stay with it
Each problem had a solution and an equation already written.
A tightrope across an impossible chasm
Trust is a scary thing
Afraid to fall, afraid to live, afraid to try
Praying to live again