sediment rests in the neck
of a wine bottle
just as anger rests in his heart
maturing
for a woman who left him
late one night in July
at night
he posted notes
in her car door
as she laid warm
inside her lovers circle
the game is over
I'm worn and tired
he wrote
snow catching the pages
smearing the ink
black tears from brown eyes
words heavy like stones
BEFORE THE TIDE
It's a long night
sleep is distant
an endless freeway
stretches ahead
I've seen a lot of road
this week
when I dream
I'm trying to paint
an ocean floor yellow
before the tide rolls back in
there are nights without you
sleep will not come
It's in these dark, hot hours
I work quickly
paint going on nicely
bubble free
thick and smooth
painting with brooms
and my bare feet
