Niles / 1985

I left you before I even got there.

But I remember our last day as

I stopped dead in my tracks to watch you.

Diffuse at first.  Birds in the air? 

Your signature clarified in the branches.

I diverted that day

   and less than three months later

     I sat, lost, 10 stories in the air.

Regret was planted

   and the harvest has been bountiful. 

If we could return to the point of diversion,

      I'm not sure if he would follow you,

            but I know I would chase you away.

Now, occasionally we read your signature in the branches.

Only then, does my mind cease to wander and roam.

St. John

St. John, I saw you each morning.
Taken for granted as this Sunday sun rises
Throwing a long shadow away from Bird St. on a day like any other, otherwise.
Barely aware of birds nervously fluttering across leafy branches in warning.

St. John, I still see you, but you're fading away.
As I rushed in from Dillons, 
I took one last look toward the swirling gray.
and saw you enveloped by an angry exhale at the end of this day...
no longer like any other


St. John, we find you inside us 
and we won't let you go.
The shadows of so many lives cast upon your living walls.
We were born here, 
we came in sick, 
and some of us left well,
while others left with you 
as you served your last full measure of devotion.

Your restoration is our mission and the wheels are in motion.