of rachel

there is a pain sometimes and

I can't understand it.

and when I see something like a red truck

parked on a lawn,

I want to paint it knowing I can

when others have said I could not;

like the teachers of my past,

my own father,

myself.

and when I hear the birds sing,

I hear the sounds but nothing more and

then I think of her, Rachel, and

how I could never fall
for anything less

not anymore,

not now.

she brought me Peggy Lee

when I know of Jazz,

she told me she loved Fitzgerald,

when I know Armstrong is king,

and when she brought me Patti Smith, I

brought her Bukowski

when we shared a night of The Smiths

I brought her much and little,

when I know I could give her much more,

but when I see her eyes,

I see who she is and

maybe she knows,

and I know,

that she must be alone

and I am alone

alone together because we know

it's strength,

but as my heart aches

I know this is nothing new.

I feel it as I watch this red truck,

when I hear the birds sing, and sometimes,

when I'm by her side as the heavy waves come

she is the one that I love,
the one who is near and far,
like the tide that comes and goes,
a heart once opened
now closed