travels

Frayed laces,
A tattered scrapbook
In a daughter's arms.

Dirty faces,
Rusty nails across
A broken canvas.

Discarded traces,
Moistened brows and
Salted pillowcases.

With hushed breath and
Wolfish eyes,
Burying their teeth in
Our sultry samba,
There it goes!
My love,
It seeps.

gone

When I hear the rain trickle down,
I remember.
Forty days and nights of memories,
coming back like a bolt of lightning through the mist.
Or when I feel the cold wind blow,
the shivers make me miss your warmth.
The smile that lit up the room
has been extinguished.
I say, when I see the stars come out,
the warm summer nights spent
counting them out come back in a flash,
and nothing is forgotten.
I grieve.
Like the father who's lost his son,
I grieve.