Empty Eyes

When she sat alone
in that time and space
where only she filled,
was it empty, was it dark

All I could see
were her empty eyes
she’d stare my way
I didn’t know if I
was a tree or me

I’d touch her hand
she’d look to see
and left me wondering
if she could feel my pulse
coming from my heart

So careful was I not
to let her see my tears
while remembering all
our loving years
maybe I should have

When her incarnate shell
finally gave way to the earth
my thoughts wandered
and I questioned

When and how was the
last time she saw me
did she last know
how much I love her
did she remember
her son holding her hand

Fuck you Alzheimer's

Dream of Dreaming

Dreams; do they come to those that are homeless
in their card board boxes, in their tents
constantly rustling about in their sleep,
their overalls or trousers stiff and crested with
dried dampness from either self infliction
or the overnight dew that at one time
would have been a pleasurable waft
in the early morning rise

If they dream, do they dream
about childhood pleasures
like running and playing in back yards
parents smiles and siblings chasing,
swings and slides?

Do they dream about warmth
in beds under fresh with sheets and
blankets embroidered by mothers,
pleasant aromas coming from
kitchens, mama's pies, belly sated,
then sitting out in the patio or
taking for walks Ben or Ruffy or Lady

Do they dream of those things
we have so readily in hand,
embraced with comfort and love
and sometimes forget of these
small pleasures that to them
are dreams of dreamings?

Hug a Friend

She’s the quiet of the two
she could say many things with authority
because she's erudite with Masters of Law
Husband, Attorney at Law
is the gregarious one (surprise)
Her quiet was broken the other day
when told her one breast was harboring
the demon all women dread
She remains quiet but in that
silence, in that quiet stillness,
she screams in frazzled fear
I hug my friend