“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan


he was thinking 3 dimensionally

we were grocery shopping,
or really he was,
before i drove him home to his piece-of-shit shack,
and he was standing in front of all the cheeses,
standing befuddled, lost in space,
looking for the one he likes the best,
and i'll be honest, i wanted him gone,
(let's get this done and you home,
i love you but you're driving me crazy, crazy)
 so i asked what he was looking for,
there in the confusion of his eyes,
and he said a half moon cheese,
and he said i can't find it.

so i looked
and i saw crescent moons
and i saw full moons,
and then finally, there,
just where the display turned an oval corner,
a half moon.
this? i said, holding it up,
colby?, i said,
cause you know, what do i know?
and no, he said, a half moon,
like a ball, cut in half.

he could see the dark side of that moon when i could not,
and i understood for a moment the tower of babel.


poem #3, for napowrimo
and for my brother
and for our inability to communicate.


  1. differently, yes, and that can be so hard sometimes!

  2. so beautiful. finding moons on the supermarket shelves, I love it.

  3. those last two lines, they sear my heart. your poetry has such a fabulous voice, i just want to keep listening.

  4. i just found you accidentally
    but i have to say
    those words
    made me stop...
    in a good way.

    looking forward to reading more!


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