For All the Compasses...We find ourselves, once againspouting lines only half-remembered,trying to keep our feetand our heads. Caught up in wordswe've said before. The gamebegins and we turn 'roundto ask our questions, going 'roundto find the world's changed again.We stumble through each game,playing by rules we once rememberedthough now I've forgotten the words.Better move on and point our feetnorthor is this south? Our feetwalk onward, wandering 'roundwithout a cue or the wordsto guide us. We've reached the start againand it seems as if I've rememberedhow we came by this game,that's all it isjust a game.Soon enough we'll find our feet.Now, tell me what you rememberedthis morning as the coin spun 'round,tumbling from the air, to your hands againwhile I spoke idly, creating wordsout of memories, pulling the wordsapartmaking a new gameto play this time and again.A few lines and we're on our feet,moving forward, backward, and 'roundevery moment we
Cut-Out RainbowsWe're just riding on paperand glue, falling to the floor,raining from cotton skiesof peach and pink shadows,caught among confetti starsplastered against a rough feltnight that we've created all our own.Trace a path across the cardboard groundcoated in colored pebbles,plastic and blinking undera homemade sun.Cut-out rainbows umbrellaand unfold over our painted box,my world and yours,held at the corners by glueor string, dressing our fingerswith the mess of every day.