Held back by your tight
seventeen syllable leash,
I write elsewhere now.
Author Archives: gimble
San Diego
Shivering at the
airport. Colder than O’Hare.
Turn back, refund flight.
Driving cross country
West Coast starting line
pavement our road map we head
east back to our roots.
Friendship
Despite my darkest
moods you reach out, take my hand,
and lead me toward hope.
Depression
Bright summer days no
friend to sadness. Solace lies
in winter’s dark chill.
On cutting off long hair
Strands layered, length chopped,
I change, shed years, fears, regrets.
Why’d I wait so long?
Sufficient
Some days it’s enough:
an absent child’s return, a
dog’s rapt love, a kiss.
Nostalgia
She cried at the film’s
end, remembering how much
she’d once loved the book.
Afterwards
We discuss the soul,
ponder death’s postlude, then choose
the happy ending.
Upon reading the work of a great writer
Breathless, punched in the
gut seeing language evolve,
my own words falter.