I was looking through very old journal and found some poems I wrote many years ago. This one is from the summer of 2004, with new edits from today. 



Let me be weightless

falling away from myself,

and step across

the weeping arms of willows.

The ocean is bittersweet;

I’ll swim the depths in search of me.


The fullest moon,

smooth as a field of clay,

disguises the sharpest thorns

My skin is cracking

full of red rust.

I am

a drawing of sand

dispersing into the wind.


The petals of forget-me-nots die

to be forgotten.


We all spend our lives standing on the edge of a cliff, that is, until we fall off the edge. 


I was pushed closer, and farther, and now I am sure I will never stop falling. 

Falling forever, you become so used to the feeling that it seems almost as if the world is flashing by while you are standing still. You watch the world tick past, a second at a time, and you fall, and fall. 

There is no way to land – no desire to either. Because that, as you can see, would be the end of it. 

The End

One night the stars fell into the lake. Side by side we watched, wondering if the world was ending. I thought: if this is the end, at least I’m holding your hand.

Note: This is one of my favorite microfictions that I have written. If I ever publish a collection, I plan to put this one first.