It’s All Good

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When we got back from Thailand, she said she couldn’t “see” me anymore — “no phone calls, no emails, no texts.”  She said she was setting me “free.”  During the five months we dated, she noted, I hadn’t written her a single poem.  That hurt, she said.  Up until our breakup, I hadn’t written any poems for more than a year.  Oddly, her disappointment inspired me.  Freedom always breathes an air of opportunity.

Yo Baby

                                —August 2014

 A tsunami arrived that day

  you spread your jam

    on my smooth sand

g

A hurricane blew

  a ukulele tune

    farther and farther, out to sea

g

 In your summer absence

  autumn winds arrived

    warm air oiled up the beach

 g

And that icy-hot sun

  your sun, ever present

    finally set one dawn

 g

Now all the birds fly free

*

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