For J

I had a friend in college
you know the one:
smart, funny
handsome, kind
never breaking my heart
but never filling it, either

Thirty years on and half a world away
we talk of children, politics
spouses now and past
I exhale knowing that he, though dear
was not the one who got away

My Right Mind

If it was my job to write
would I sit stone-still, staring
at the screen, the page
the blank wall
for hours
remembering years of days filled entirely with
inconsequential things
messages requiring responses
calls to return
lists of items to be crossed off
Because now feels so full
and my right mind knows
I am the one who has made it so


If I didn't look closely
I might believe this story you tell
with your smooth pressed shirt
and carefully knotted tie
but I see the way you bite your lip
as you pull your hands
in and out of pockets
and I wonder:
why not put those hands here
come bite my lip instead?