What a lonely friend is the moon.

Full or dim she hovers each night,

Loyal.  True, even when low and blue.

So dear, yet in orbit alone.

Wondering the love pangs of stone,

She shares her tears as rolling tides.

Butterflies are hope
Nature's random clues proving
We are not deceived

Balloons

Look...smiles on a string
Joy...captured in full color
Shocked...I let go.

Half-shadows and darkened rooms
Are the cubbies and closets in which I dwell
They are large enough to contain whole worlds
Yet are filled with chair after empty chair
I could fill them with more than just likeness and remembrance
Instead I reign over my silent kingdom
Politely receiving those who stumble in
After accidentally opening the wrong door.