One More Moondance, My Love

Originally published in Clay Literary’s RAVEN:

A cool October evening presented itself in front of us,
the full moon in the sky hovered above, and the tension
between us lent itself to lyrics that resonated to every

following Autumn. ‘Can I just have one more Moondance
with you, my love?’ you sang as we walked arm in arm. It
was our first song, my first song sung to me. And to this

day, the smile, the tone of your voice, the way you
captured me, still sends shivers right through me.
From the first taps of the piano to the trumpet blaring

three-quarters of the way through, it all sends me back
to you. I halt everything to remember your voice, your smile,
to be wrapped in a moment with you once again.

Deconstruction Site

How many times do we take
the leap before we realize
we’ve jumped in too deep

How many times do we stop
to realize we need to
protect our insides

How many times does this heart
have to break; this love,
you too shall take

He was the one healing
the deepest scar,
the wound he created,
only to tear it apart
as he twists the knife
churning everything
inside of me

The Shape of Us

Image credit: Magnifier

The shape of our love, our version of it,
exists in bubbling thoughts of former lives,
constant dreams of distant hearts
where our lives are entwined

Ripples of waves intersect
jetting dangerously close
but never on the same path
turning heads, looking back

How do we get off this track
without losing control,
without knowing
where it will go

The inhabitants look upon us
making waves in their home
They tell us to let the waves subside,
transform our shape and go

Show’s Over

Image credit Andrey Kuzmin

The production commenced
with actors on stage
portraying the love we once had-
the grasp of her cheek,
the look in her eyes,
as he folded over himself
to make her swoon his way.

Amongst an empty crowd,
the curtain’s now drawn,
the actors have gone home,
the final act is done,
it’s time to get on.

Hanging on for an encore,
hoping for another show,
relishing in the memories
and never letting go,
I can still feel that soft cheek,
feel those eyes resting upon me,
and those chains not letting me free.

The show’s over
but it plays on
relentlessly in the forefront
of this lover’s mind.

Dear love

Dear love,
Thoughts of you the other day brought smiles. Today thoughts of you produced overrun swells in my eyes. The many years we’ve been separated, but how our hearts have always been close, how many more years will it be like this? Living in fantasy and memories all of the time is no way of living. The truth of what can never be, will I ever set these feelings free? This arrested state of bliss, of dreaming of our next kiss… and the pain of knowing that it may be a million years away. We’re so close yet always out of reach. I sit and dream of you, and wonder… will our dreams ever come true.

Undying Flame

Images and words
suddenly appear,
words I’ve longed for
hitting deep
as they wrap around
and envelop me,
overwhelming yet satisfying.

Since our last meeting
your ghostly presence arrived
in the oddest of places:
romantic restaurants,
quaint cafes,
art galleries,
long car drives,
concert halls,
walking in a park,
every room of the house,
and late at night in bed.

Days leading up
to the most significant life events,
it was you
always there
and me not finding the right words
to express the emptiness,
the loss,
the longing,
the wanting.

Reunions are great, they say,
as long as you don’t have to deal with the past,
as long as it doesn’t control your present, and
as long as the flame doesn’t consume you.

Yet, here I am standing steadily in the burning flames with you again.

Him, Me, Us

It was the rippling in his hair,
the currents which ran through him
and I caught in his riptide,
always wondering if it was true.

It was the crinkles in his skin around the eyes,
years of wisdom and sun-kissed days,
the spaces that I would soon settle in.

It was our passion that bonded us
as we fluttered with every touch
and floating past each other
not realizing how much
we held each other so dear.

Skimming around what our future would hold,
we knew there was a chance
as long as we were both alive.
Our distance was only a pause
as our dreams and memories
held each other close.

A song, a scent, a fleeting moment
bringing us back together.
A movie, a scene of lovers reminiscing,
that could be us realizing
all of our precious dreams.

And now here we stand,
lovers reunited
though we never parted.
Our story is still young;
dearly loved, deeply devoted,
our hearts still beating as one.

We Are Gathered Here Together

In loving memory of my family…

My grandfather,
he ordered black coffee,
a soup and salad before his meal,
steak and potatoes,
and always leaving room for dessert
at buffets on the other side of town

A routine meal
to this day
is remembered
as my favorite meals with him

My Dad loved on his Alaskan crab legs
with a side of melted butter
While Mom ordered chicken
at a seafood restaurant
She never offered to pay
while Auntie told us,
‘Don’t take it for granted,
she should say ‘Thanks’’

A routine meal
that to this day
is remembered
as our family meals together

The holidays would arrive suddenly,
every holiday,
as our family rushed off to Sunday service.

Was this excursion a last minute decision?
Is the calendar right? Always arriving late,
we discreetly sneaked into the pews.
With a family of five, surely no one would notice.
But they did, they always notice.

A routine holiday
that would years later
be remembered
as our holidays together

Every year,
every holiday,
every birthday,
the same restaurants,
the same routine,
the same church service.

But at least we gathered
in the familiar ways we knew
what was to come.
We could count on those moments,
those familiar moments.

Now we look back
without the chance to relive
all those memories,
without the words of togetherness
without bickering
without reconciling
No more chasing each other around the yard
No more climbing up the tree, my favorite tree
All that is left are these memories
While isolating from our high-strung family

Now we pass the memories on
while making new ones;
new choices of restaurants,
holidays, vacations
and promises of not being late
(but who are we kidding, we’re always late)

And yet, some things will remain
I’ll keep the same dessert
in honor of my grandparents
whose struggles and sacrifices for our family
deserve to be rewarded
with a slice of warm apple pie


One by one counting memories:
An old photograph of us at the beach,
A sweater that won’t rid itself of your scent,
Books and CDs that you lent,
I’ve packed them away
They won’t see another day

I’ve packed the boxes,
Made the plans,
The rooms are empty
But I am motionless

Is it that familiar look?
Is it that morning glow
That paints itself through that morning window?
No, it’s these damn memories that aren’t letting go

Listen to more of my poems on SoundCloud
This poem, along with others, can be found in my book Coffee Shop Sessions II: Moving Mountains One by One