the river

river flowing, tumbling down-

mumbling, rumbling- whispering

of things long since forgotten now, of all the things that you once told me.

stream and creek with water clean, tell me all the words you know

reflected on the rocks, the sand, the tiny fish, the toads.

many times i’ve sat upon a rock and listened to your flowing phrase:

endless words for all to hear and yet you never take a breath-

no other song or poetry can wash such peace across my chest.

i hear your voice from half a mile: gently you call to me-

mumbling, rumbling- whispering,

of all the things that you have seen.

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almost gone (unfinished song)

the rain is falling, and the porch lights off. the night is humming it’s summer song. oh, i’d always dreamed of moments like this but never realized their impermanence.

oh, the moon’s almost gone. oh, the moon’s almost gone.

you asked her a question once, and she’ll never forget the clear look in your eyes as it tumbled from your lips. she thought, ‘oh, there’s no way a night could be more perfect than this’,

but oh, the moons almost gone. oh, the moon’s almost gone. oh, the moon’s almost gone- and suddenly almost gone isn’t too far off.