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There is a place we go
Where words
Do not exist
Feelings vanish
And we are temples

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Solicitously we wait
We gather
We sort our breathing
As if we could
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When our children hurt it is a pain we cannot explain
When our grandchildren hurt
We ARE the devastation

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I decided to become an actor and study it when all else failed.
I had probably been doing it for some time...
Being reared in a religious community in the South.

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inside of him I find myself
lurking
betraying
being nondescript
being everything
and nothing

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they were like young puppies

excitable
ecstatic
living as if there is no tomorrow
unbridled
and I the older artist of sorts
stood there drinking my alcohol-less beer
me in my hat of many colors
watching them on the dance floor
me on the sideline(s)
seeing myself
and it was good

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I don’t want to write
I want to nap again
I am getting older
It’s ok because today it fits.
Today I like myself

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when we hurt
the earth opens up or shuts completely

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