I've never shared my poetry with anyone. I've never had the nerve.
I still don't.
matis
Matis,
It is a scary thing,
laying your soul out for
stripping
OK, grampster, from a less happy time -- here goes.
TRAVELS
My gorgeous toddler daughter
Each time her mother takes her
Back across the land
I am left
To traverse gulfs.
To navigate my way to a state
Where I live without grief.
I do not know where
Yet always get there.
Tomorrow they'll be here again.
I'll be overjoyed.
I'll be overjoyed
As soon as I make it
Back across the gulfs.
As soon as I can disembark
And locate the locker.
The locker where I checked the bags.
The bags I loaded with the grief.
That cannot quite contain my joy.