Does your soul expand as you grow older,
Or pour out of you,
‘til it’s gone,
and you die?

We will have to make up new words,
'Cause I've said all I can to you.

I’m no poet.
I just hate writing
Full lines
Across the page.

I’ve lost all of my umbrellas,
But it’s really not that much of a pain
Walking across the courtyard
In the rain.

I closed my eyes
And saw a helicopter
In my mind.
But you woke me up
From my day dream.

All I need is an open road,
You,
And her mellow voice
To carry us on.

The postal women
con you into buying
too many damn stamps!

I realized I didn’t have any more pictures of us together.
And I tried to draw your face.
But I can’t recollect,
And like you would expect,
I’ve always lacked that talent.

I wanted to carve our names in a tree,
But the blade of my knife
Was too dull to pierce the bark,
So we carved out our soft hearts
Instead.

It’s too bright here.
I want to go
And find a soft rainy place.

I love you like the wind.
Calm and gentle,
It thrashes and tears out
Everything too.

I bought a pack of note cards
To share my secrets with the world.
But I found I no longer had any
To tell.

We are a series of events
That have collided together,
Creating this thought,
This feeling,
This knowledge,
That I could not have obtained
Any other way.

I traced your face
In ivy and in gardens.

I easily tire
when your statements
require,
an answer.

My old thesaurus
Holds my favorite knowledge
Words are my treasure