June 26, 2011 7:58AM-

While I pack my camp gear

I try hard to imagine what you would say

I was missing, something I wouldn't

Even know I forgot until I needed it.

You would probably like my tent,

I think, as Ann and I practice

Putting it up and taking it down

At least once or twice, to prepare.

Here in the front yard, it seems

Like a futile excersise, but I know

You would agree with the theory.

I sometimes still think as I push open

The garage door, I will see your hand

Outstretched, palm out.

I wait to hear you call my name,

To greet me with that excitement in your voice.

And maybe a tiny bit of resentment

That it had been two or three days since the last visit.

You would probably ask for a can of gasoline.

I never did, but now, I would probably ask you

To share your can of Skoal. I wish

We would have done that, when we still could.

I wish we would have gone camping.

I know you were tired, and ready to go-- to be honest.

I know I would have selfishly pushed you through it,

But on the other end, we would have both been better,

And I'd have had a few more memories to hold onto.

I wish you would have met my wife. She only knows

The picture of you at Jason's wedding

That I haven't decided where to hang quite yet.

I know it's never long enough,

But in your case, it really wasn't.

All these people that have come along

Like your great-gandson, who shares your name--

I wonder if he would call you Pappaw--

Or later on if he would spell it like

I do, or with an L, or like mom does--

All these people now in our lives,

And those not yet arrived,

Would not hope to be here, were it not for you.

We would not be who we are without your love.

And they owe your thier happiness, as we do

Though they have never met you.

December 12, 2009, after midnight

As the winter dustings settle in.

As we spend Tuesdays hanging stockings

And Thursdays trimming trees-- hanging lights.

I know more than I did yesterday

That you are all I was meant for.

Between Santa hats and small disputes,

I hope I can find enough time to tell you

How much I love you. Between 7am coffee

And staring for 120 seconds before you awake,

I hope I can shine a light on you

Like you have done for me every day.

I hope I can show, I was meant for you.

And we were meant for two man Friday nights.

The bitter sting of salty Tequila shots,

The permentant smiles are setting in.

If I could say how I feel it would certainly scare you.

They aren't mere words, they are pulses of love.

Electric vines entwined between your lips and mine.

It could not be more simple-- this is love.

Love beyond greeting cards. It surpasses

Shakespeare, it could not be acted or played out

In any way, it could only be you and I,

On a train from Rome to Venice, with

My head on your lap, your hand in my hair.

It can't be written out in detail, but I could show you.

If I could take a picture

Of your hand, wrapped inside of mine.

Your shoulder tucked below my arm.

Your cheek against my body, softly.

Your heart inside my heart.

August 26, 2009

I've got you hanging on my wall.

I've got you buzzing in my ear.

I've got you wrapped around

The corners of my mind

And on it all the time.

I've come this far for only you.

I've been waiting for so long.

I've got drawers packed full

Of greeting cards. I've got

Poems, I've got songs, I've got you.

I've got love tight inside my pocket.

I've got a hard grip on tomorrow.

I've got you to look forward to.

I've got much more than I would ask for.

I've got you hanging on my wall.

August 22, 2009 - the beginning of Annie

You may have spoke too soon,

But I'm feeling just the same as you.

You are beautiful, you taste like my

Dreams coming true. Your taste

Fascinates me. Your laugh, your shape

As you climb out of bed, your smile,

Your head on my lap. I miss

You every minute you are away,

But you say "soon enough"

You will be here, be mine,

Be my baby blue eyes.

And we will run off after the sunrise.

I've been waiting for you.

You left like sunset,

Squeezed behind the hill,

Regretting our last mistaken goodbye.

A breeze licked the raindrops from the rail,

As the sun beating broke the scilence

Of a Saturday afternoon aglow.

Full of dancing limbs, and telephone poles.

A warm aroma oozes out to air.

The summer melts around me; wet, dripping,

Heat-soaked with laughter not yet opened up.

A fine moment this would be, with company,

Easy chatter, like spilled drinks un-noticed.

A slender cloud on the horizon, cut

Deep into the distance, I wonder what.

Closing out the sunshine, with eyelids shut.

It was the last time

I heard your voice.

The pitchy frustration,

A cliff's edge

A crash of satly tear-waves below.

A year I waited

And you slid into my bed

With enough ease to

Make me wonder. After

Months, I ran out of poems

That I hadn't already read to you.

You grew bored, rushed off

To a walkaway.

It was the last time.