use my arms
to hold back
the wind
to open all
your doors
to carry
the umbrella
to bring you
breakfast
to carry your
coat
to bring in the
birthday cake
to hold your
favorite books
to collect the
shells we love
to dance
for no reason
to carry the
flowers you grow
To have is to hold. – mh clay
a curious passing
breeze is blessed
by her whispers
there’s a reflection,
an uncovering,
a moment of being
elsewhere
she pauses,
releasing a modest
smile
they speak of dreams
and how ripples
in a still pond
eventually reach
their shorelines
he recognizes
the mercy of an
open hand
More than having one’s back… – mh clay
why,
is the other
side of the
question,
answered
the space
between stones,
the sound of
words breaking
away from the
ordinary
it starts early
morning,
a hand to the
wind,
while standing
on the edge of
vision
where smoke from
a fire
walks the air,
searching for the
symptoms to be
cured
Only way through is sideways. – mh clay
street lights,
weak and bland,
exposing those
browsing
and
those desiring
gods and
goddesses
loitering,
bending into,
leaning away,
guarding carefully
hushed exchanges
they walk
and turn,
shadows following
to the next light
where hearts wait
to be wanted
What all of us deities desire. – mh clay
ethereal parchment
whispered
within the linen
of darkness folded
into the breath
of careful
thought
captured through
the lens,
a print of
shadows
holding tight
the air
within a circle
at the crossroads
up ahead
Listen… Shhh… You can almost make them out… – mh clay
an image within a song
showing up before you arrive
appearing bigger in the eyes
of yourself and where you are
on a front porch
as a door opens
like the words
you push in the swing
at days end
and a front light
forming a circle
where dew and toys
share space
while night
holds its breath
as wishes and dreams
climb over the moon
to the other side
When moonlight makes image into wish, a view come true. – mh clay
there’s an
opportunity of
attitude
to go the
other way
avoiding the
lines
to immediately
impose on
something to
believe in
without striving
receiving the
interest
of everything
you’re out of
becoming more
than anybody
not just an
everybody
leaving the
rough road
behind
On your road to self-discovery, who do you think you are? – mh clay
There’s rain
in the desert
where lizards
and one-eyed dogs
live
on the
wrong side of the
tracks
and bars with
tired neons
blink onto
cactus and sand
where nothing
comes alive
except
lightning and
dry winds
as we try for the
right way
leaving behind
what tries to
hold us back
in the desert
where even the
water has no place
to go.
Seeking the vagaries in a closed system. – mh clay
It’s on the
edge of the desert
an open door welcomes
the thirsty
and the curious
ashtrays full of
last night’s words
and crushed hearts
where leather jackets
and quarters keep
the juke box breathing
passing freight trains
push a melody
to someplace
where truckers kill time
until the coffee
turns cold
songs on the road
top down
next town signs
shot to death
where lizards and snakes
crawl the night dance
Step inside. The desert comes, too. – mh clay
It’s all to soon
for the sun to be
impaled on a
low horizon
or for windows
to wink shut
as dry winds
lose their growl
to light sea breezes
leaning lazily
on shorelines
while the dusk of
mercy and
angels with words
breathe a comfort
into darkness
as a pale moon
pushes up.
An angel scratches ink, speaks peace. – mh clay
