Keyhole View        2015

through the window I watch the mechanical world
snarl and belch like an angry beast,
its synthetic blood glistening
as it pumps through the veins of this city
but after a life in the woods, I like the bustle
it is energetic, alive
from time to time I yearn for the simple life again
to return to my cabin on the island
but it never twinkled as much as it did in my dreams
could never quite find a way to make that little shack stay up
I woke one night, glistening with sweat
I saw the scales of dead fish
shining in the moonlight
and a great sickness in the ocean.
childish as the day we were born
lost as the animals around us
running and panting in the summer haze
we close our eyes
only listen to the voices that live inside this dream
thanks us for our patience
tells us there’s still time to wake up
please stay on the line
as I unpack all the versions of myself from my mind
in one version I waited on the beach until the sun went down
then walked toward the forest and
past the owl that only looks back and
that woman in the well
I learned the lessons of deer and salmon
and other wise creatures
they embody the secrets I longed for
but my thoughts are always stretched,
trying to find balance.
from my suburban trappings
I imagine the inlets of my youth
at night I sometime wake to find myself in the backyard
searching for that secret trail back to my childhood home
scouring the bushes for that keyhole view
sometimes I pretend the car headlights are fishing boats
the intersections turn into coves of twinkling lanterns
where fishermen and their prey take shelter in the bay
until the storms have passed
the moon rises, the men drink on their boats
and even the fish relax.
and then someone honks
and yells “get the hell out of the way asshole!”