November 15, 2008

Silence stills those words broken
Memory’s shadow on green fields spoken
A name, a number something written
It was you doing the pitching
On fields of dust, of grass and clover
What to give to live it over
Pity time it cannot stop
Precious dreams, this one thought
If there’s a god, he must know
Within my soul you will grow

Dead end?

... and the fading vapor zippered the sky shut.

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everywhere you look tiny skybox people
faces no bigger than a dime
wondering what they're thinking about
in their tiny, skybox kinds of minds
skybox eyes, skybox lips smaller than a dot
images of life condensed and squeezed
in a space no larger than a thought

The sound of your voice

hello, nothing much to say
how's it going out your way
got your note the other day
saying, you might pass this way
I'll be home
by the phone
wondering,
please come home

thinking where you were at nights
amber haze 'neath street lights
foggy vision, cloudy mind
hole in me words can't define
no one home
by the phone
wondering,
you alone?

heard you finally settled down
got both feet back on the ground
was it worth the look around
thanks, I need hearing the sound
of your voice
still your choice
wondering,
blue eyes moist

leaving left a mark on me
but not very plain to see
buried by reality
was hope, even certainty
no one home
by the phone
wondering,
please come home

All I need to know

never been to Mexico
never seen Idaho
never reached for the sky
never even wondered why

my two feet upon the ground
spending days looking down
only thing I define
your shadow next to mine

and the only words I need to know
are those three carved long ago
when the day is gone
and the lights turned out
I will know what life's about

when November rolls around
when the snow is on the ground
when your footprints drift my way
you will bring a sunny day

as my thoughts begin to fade
and my passion turns to gray
everything I've ever known
came from you alone

and the only words I need to know
are those three carved long ago
when the day is gone
and the lights turned out
I will know what life's about

never been to Mexico
never seen Idaho
never reached for the sky
never even wondered why

Saturday Night

filling the house with noise
cramming the space you left
switching off on lights
creeping shadows of theft
picturing friends, only a few
thinking of time
when time needed you