Little Pink Houses

And I fell in love all over again

Listenin’ to a rock n‘ roll station;

I met my own boy from Indiana who thought-

ain’t that America, we’re something to see baby.

Smart as a whip and head full of dreams,

I blushed, "Boy, you're gonna be president."

I’d slide next to him on the worn leather seat

when he’d pick me up in his Cadillac Brougham,

I would swim in the blue of his eyes as

he whispered in my ear pulling me closer,

"Hey darling, I can remember that you could stop a clock."

And there’s winners, and there’s losers

and I’ve lost him to all these years

But they ain't no big deal ‘cause I am still

Listenin’ to a rock n‘ roll station

and I can hear his tender promise

Little pink houses, babe, for you and me.

Warm Keeps Better Company Than Cold

Cold companion,

black evening

sits unwelcomed,

draperies shut

tight against

icicle'd panes,

wintry whistles

rattle tea cups,

tepid water

sits undisturbed.

Unforgiving,

minutes are hours

tripping seconds

spent in quiet,

numbing senses;

I feel nothing-

even no one

fails to produce

temporary

relief from self.

Some months ago,

the open door

framed leaves budding

against a blue

languorous sky,

lazy sunlight

settled on sills

disturbing dust,

its warmth pulling

stiff out of me.

Cockled company,

the heart beats deep,

rhythmically,

penetrating

extremities

leaving no point

alone to fend

for its lonesome

during springtime

or summer solstice.