Anchor

A friend's brother killed last summer
Lead sunk into our hearts
and settled, stuck.
I think about him a lot, but
I think about his family more,
Walking about with weighted hearts.

Seen

His eyes, gentle blue like the other side of the sunset, considered the wide mountainside vista, resting finally on the audacious possibility of the horizon at dawn.

Creating

Create beauty, a teacher told me.
We, all, creations of beauty:
Do we create it, or is it just
that we draw attention
to what was previously unnoticed
as a mirror in the sun?

Prescription

The diagnosis, Doctor, is chronic heartache, compound heartbreak, fractured into so many pieces that it should fall apart but for the love stitching it together.

The Beautiful People

The beautiful people are walking around with silently breaking hearts,
and all I want to do is pick up the pieces and squeeze them back together again.

Discovered in Bolivia notebook from last summer

Mi fe es dudar lo mal porque confio en lo bueno.
Mi esperanza es desesperar de las fuerzas mias para confiar en las de los demas.
Mi paz es luchar por la vida de la humanidad.
Y a mi amor no hay opuesto.