re/mem/ber

left your mother's
apron in the rain
cut the rhododendron
in the wrong place again
further than than she would have
would you ever find a way to leave this place
on the back of a book
on the back of shadows
know a lot of people
but after a while you
get tired of draining
the pool.

spark; resistance
timber and the persistence
of fools telemetry
swim and swim
will you ever go the distance?
constantly wondering
will there ever be a way back?
or will we end up blind,
mumbling and delivering
gibberish in exile
like jack kerouac?

the rain hits the roof
here like the arrows
of arithematic breaking
on the coast full of lingering shipwrecks
their hidden coins tarnished
like riches kept for ages
when slow light
moves away
from history's
pages.

(First Mac Posting! Thanks AJ!)