New Holes

We used to hold hands
laughing as we skipped
through warm summer sunsets
the light touching our hair just so
as we sucked in greedy gulps of happiness
and breathed out the innocence of our age,
written not only on our smiles
but on our red wagons
the bottoms of our mud covered shoes
the inside of our lunch boxes.
Then came a time when the sun went down
and we were forced to find our own light
as we struck different matches
searching in the dark for some fulfillment
that we had never lacked before.

Iron Tides

The seasons are changing again
first from summer to autumn
as the southern seas that we basked in
withdrew their warm waves.
And we watched wide eyed
as everything green and living
burst into flames
of crimson, umber, gold,
then smoldered into browns
and grey overcast skies.
Then the iron tides rose
with their cutting cold winds
and frigid waters coming in higher and higher.
Here we remain to endure the storm
for the months to come
and try to remember the south seas
on the nights when the damp
sinks into our bones
and the ice creeps into our blood.
We will endure
for it is all we know to do,
endure this untameable sea
and dry ourselves in the promise
that tides always change.