John, you are a treasure. I’m counting on you.

Woodsy the Performance Poet

I wrote this a while back in response to a very personal piece on House of Heart, about people we had hoped to hold a little longer.

Despite what the movies and the clichés tell us, things don’t always end neatly or beautifully… but it’s worth something that there are still those out there, like Holly, offering a little sanctuary and hope to those who are running on empty…

I’m sorry I couldn’t be there,
shine with you,
watch you grow from
sharpening your poems on blades of grass,
cuddling small clouds
who followed you home,

to lying undefeated on your bed,
checking out phantoms and raindrops
on your windows
after a day stained with comedowns
and air strikes,
holding your breath for fingerstrokes
that gallop on thighs
young enough to believe in adventure.

I’m sorry I couldn’t be there
for all of these things,
laugh with you

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