I Hope Jimmy had a Fine Birthday

I Hope Jimmy had a Fine Birthday

it is overcast and gray
and the rain won’t be stopping
until next week

I hurt
and hurt
and hurt
but smile
in spite of the pain

on the drive to work
I think about
last night
and the nights before

and I can’t stop smiling
and you’re the reason

I pass a house
with a sign out front
that says:

Jimmy is 40, HONK!

I slow down,
honk my horn
several times
in celebration

and I am happy
and everything
feels right and good
being with you.

The Sky Above This One

The Sky Above This One


(second exquisite corpse by street-heart-posts, wednesdayshambles and quaintobsessions)

I saw reflections of clouds resting
on the wings of a silver bird;
even the moon can be carried
in an eerie easeful motion down.

Spines straight,
the arrows stick between the rungs;
unable to dislodge them, I climbed
until a new sky filled my lungs.

A study in the way velvet mist
obscures the edge of tail feathers:
the beauty found in suffering
pauses, idles, stalls.