Beyond Until


Acupuncture wiped me out.
I said no errands today. I’m
going straight back to

editing my great American
novel. But I was more than
half way to Trader Joe’s.

Got almond butter, coffee,
almonds. Forgot my special
tea. My regular tea will do.

My sweet muse, can you tell?
I’m writing about my day
but thinking of you.

Drug store and then home.
Now mid-afternoon, I made
lunch. My phone dinged.

My sweet muse, can you tell?
I wanted it to be you. May
I say it again? It is so true.

Every letter of your texts
love me and touch my heart.
I can feel every tap.

The phone dinged that two
packages were delivered to
the mail room. Not so. One.

The game of wait-and-see
begins. So, as I looked at the
clock I decided I needed a

late afternoon cup of tea.
Hot and sweet. Should bring
me back from the living dead.

My sweet muse, can you tell?
My tea made me think of
you, but you’ve had a hard

day. Feet ache, headache,
heartache, you texted. Hot
bath and bed for you.

My sweet muse, can you tell?
If I were there, I’d rub and
kiss the ache away.

I have no doubts that our
friendship was true love all
these years. Can’t go back.

I know. But I’d rewrite that
line. You know the line I’m
talking about.

“We are connected in love
forever, but must remain a
touch apart until…”

O my very dearest, I couldn’t
get past the “until” or end
it there! We won’t end.

I will love you always and
beyond until.

Unpunctuated


it’s a holiday
I wasn’t going
to write today

but as the day
wore on I knew
I had to tell you

one more time
that I love you
which is so true

I don’t have the
words for it and
there is so much

I was aching to
tell you that
I wouldn’t let

anything stand
in my way even
punctuation

I didn’t want to
pause to think or
pause to fuss or

stop to examine
no I love you
more than our

love apart can
feel can say can do
can think or fathom

our love is such
that nothing can
stop it our love

is who we are and
words can’t explain
it what can keep us

apart it is like trying to
keep light from the day
or dark from the night

in its simplest form or
at its most complex it
will always be the

uncut version of our
lives the truth of who
we are and love

this unfathomable
life of ours that is
a forever love at its

best unpunctuated

Odds and Ends No. 66


Waking in winter isn’t the same as
waking in the desert heat. Not cold
enough to turn on the heat.

Still too warm to wear layers like I
did in Indiana. In the winters here,
I transform into the tin man from

“The Wizard of Oz” sans oil can.
When I awake, I creak, I yawn, I
stretch, I ache, I squeak; I speak

like a seventy-eight on thirty-
three and a third. (If you don’t
remember vinyl records and

record players, you won’t get
that, e.g., normal speech at a
slower speed.) On the other hand,

if you laughed at that analogy,
you need to see a good Internist
like I do, whether you need one

or not. “Doc, why do I have such
and such?” I pay them to reply,
“You’re old.” (Reader, your time

will come!) Don’t worry. “Time
is on My Side” may have been a
cool song in its day; it just isn’t

true. Time is not on our side.
It was paperwork day today. Got
a mountain done. Writing wise,

I have a win-win of sorts. You
see I did NaNoWriMo for the
first time this year, which ended

on eleven thirty. I went into it
with half of my Vietnam book
written. And just over midway

through NaNo, I finished the
book. A win, sort of. I still had
to write about two thousand

words a day for about ten days
or so. Now what? I spent a few
days doing more thinking than

writing. My word count fell
drastically! The tin man was
critically wounded for the

fifty thousand word NaNo win.
But. Here is the but. I finished
the book I started. And (should

be in caps). AND, I started a
new book; a detective novel
circa 1940 in NYC. So, I didn’t

make the word count, but it
was a win-win if you ask me.
(Thanks, NaNoWriMo.)

As I sit here looking out my
window, it is dark. I turned on
the yellow pair of garage lights.

I should hear the sound of the
garage door going up shortly,
then I can start on dinner.

Meanwhile, in the days ahead
I’m in edit mode, finalizing my
book and selecting photos for

it. Then, publish a another
poetry book. Then, I’ll take a
closer look at Detective Sidney

James and his 1934 Buick
fighting crime in the winter of
1940 in NYC. Christmas is on

the way. Makes me think. A good
time of year to reflect about what
is on your side. It isn’t time; we’ve

already covered that. Christmas.
Hanukkah. What comes to mind?
Tis the season to be jolly and

remember, God is on your side.