Little Pink Houses

And I fell in love all over again
Listenin’ to a rock n‘ roll station;
I met my own boy from Indiana who thought-
ain’t that America, we’re something to see baby.


Smart as a whip and head full of dreams,
I blushed, "Boy, you're gonna be president."
I’d slide next to him on the worn leather seat
when he’d pick me up in his Cadillac Brougham,
I would swim in the blue of his eyes as
he whispered in my ear pulling me closer,
"Hey darling, I can remember that you could stop a clock."


And there’s winners, and there’s losers
and I’ve lost him to all these years
But they ain't no big deal ‘cause I am still
Listenin’ to a rock n‘ roll station
and I can hear his tender promise
Little pink houses, babe, for you and me.

Warm Keeps Better Company Than Cold

Cold companion,
black evening
sits unwelcomed,
draperies shut
tight against
icicle'd panes,
wintry whistles
rattle tea cups,
tepid water
sits undisturbed.

Unforgiving,
minutes are hours
tripping seconds
spent in quiet,
numbing senses;
I feel nothing-
even no one
fails to produce
temporary
relief from self.

Some months ago,
the open door
framed leaves budding
against a blue
languorous sky,
lazy sunlight
settled on sills
disturbing dust,
its warmth pulling
stiff out of me.

Cockled company,
the heart beats deep,
rhythmically,
penetrating
extremities
leaving no point
alone to fend
for its lonesome
during springtime
or summer solstice.