He’s Isolated

He's isolated, without friends,
And then I realize so am I.
Employment gives me my supply
Of socialization, but spends
It on itself; likewise upends
Plans with Hayden or with Chris. Lives
Provide obligations to tie
Each one of us to his own lens.

It may be truly as he grieves,
A shared act of creation must
Be made for his friendship to leave
The dungeon of his spirit's rust.
He needs saving from desuetude;
He works too hard to rest unviewed.

Any raging storm

Any raging storm
Is still water for my world.
Let the rain scream down.

Bed Lizard

Pillow, dome of glass,
The lizard my love captures,
When released, springs off.

Cardinal

Ruby red rustle
In the orange tree's branches,
Spritely cardinal.

One of Many Things

I think what I adore about you most
is your compassion for creatures in need:
the softshell turtle caught in dirt you freed;
protecting the mother hens on the coast
of the pond from a rowdy drake engrossed
in his hormones; and when you took the lead
trapping and releasing to his green weeds
the little lizard found on our bedpost.

Spiders, moths, and even juvenile wasps,
you do what you can to bring them from harm.
Even when exhausted you don't exhaust
your kindness for helpless things. That's the charm
which draws us to your arms, especially
the one who needs you more than any: me.

Fulfillment

If I've learned one thing
About finding fulfillment,
And I'm far from it,
I'm certain it's a homestead
With land for muscovy ducks.

My Dear Friend Franklin

My dear friend Franklin,
I came to visit today
But you were absent.
I knew that someday... 
                                            You're free.
Live life. We love you always.

What does owning mean

What does owning mean,
that nasally form of debt?
Life's merely loaning
our treasures and trophies,
our exertions and our sweat.

Thinking of You

Tell me I never
Think of you, you're somewhat right;
So much more my thoughts 
For you go into verses,
Where's those for you as person?

Homesick

Autumn in Fort Wayne,
Indiana, solely known
From my love's tristesse:
The browning leaves he misses,
First snow, furrows in his brow.

I despise airplanes;
But if I had the money,
We'd fly back and forth
From the glades of Florida
To Indiana's corn fields.