The Silver Lake
Missed Connections in Brooklyn

The Silver Lake

the heart of a solitary traveler
is littered with
many

accidental, colliding chances
along with the memories
of all those
dances

with poets, scholars, wolves
and the moon

and the bright red desert
on a warm day
in june

and deep in a lake
up high on the
moon

lies a silver suitcase
filled with all of
his

forgets and
plans

along with the dreams
he forgot, to
forget

Her Two Cents

Tree branches and plant roots, circulatory systems, fractals. Is there a difference between gazing skyward and peering into a still water reflection? Countless and ever-growing are the things we remember and the things we forget; reality, imagination, and the memories existing between. What does your silver suitcase hold?