poems

fall

water’s falling in the domestic terminal

of the san francisco airport

after missing the flight

after running all the way

after all the inching traffic

the boy in fleece next to me

politely ignores

the very human sounds

being made beside him

and reads

the theory of poker

and i think

how tired i am

of thinking about

winning

or losing

outside the window

another plane takes off

i watch

all those lives

for a moment

going in exactly the same direction.

san francisco is already a poem

candlestick park

oyster point

twin peaks

land’s end

            green is gone

            grey is going

            i could no longer hold my tongue

            september does that to me

            every year

         summer is gone

       it is time for telling true things

    and burying hatchets

  if you have them

i carry the weight

simple in the sweetness of summer

i hide easy in all that freedom

i hold the vinegar on my tongue

cut it thick with sugar

and lemon

swallow it back

it all goes down smooth in june

carefree and wild with the long afternoons

sliding syrup into evening

the sky so steeped with sun

we drink it all night long

throw up hands

in the warm wind

            and panic when it turns and falls

            with september

            the terror of all this heavy

            of cold coming in

            bitter across the american west

            watching all that freedom

            harden and start to splinter

            the fear

            of suddenly

            finally

            setting down this load

                 this good, good ache of you

            of knees buckling

            of finally having to own up

            to being unable to carry this

            any further.

we had one magic hour,

my sweet friend,

where things sat still for us

where we could keep each other warm

where our dotted lines intersected with softness

but one hour

            even one magic hour

is still only one hour

which is to say

one magic hour

is not enough

which is to say

suddenly

finally

i understand

                  and every light in the world goes out.

the leaves lay mulching beneath our feet

i have mourned enough;

this hatchet heart is heavy,

it is time to put it down.