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.