30 feet

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Thirty feet
Or twenty more... from the walkway,
which sits ten feet above the level of the sea

Or ten feet... if one were to stand on the bridge,
twenty feet above the level of the sea

Or two hundred yards further for
those on the path
leading away from the shore

So he told me...

The man in the box

With the smooth voice

And the perfect hair

Just stand thirty feet above
Where the family was standing
As the ocean rushed forward
and swept them away

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Poem written on a plane

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Hate finds his path through the meadow

Love digs her toes into the deep warm sand
as she sits on a towel handed down by her sister Lust

All three dream of what the other has...
in fits and bursts of light and dark clouds

Hope and Want, distant cousins pull
at their hands as they visit from the hills where they live
and desperately long to return

But when at the shore and when in the meadow their bellies are soon filled with wonderful ice cream and guilt
made from the milk of happy and content cows

Until they are sleepy and easily persuaded to dig their toes
and walk the paths

Hand in hand

With Hate and Love and their beautiful sister Lust.

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