Columbus

So, I guess I don't know

what I'm doing anymore.

But I'm going to do it

anyways. 

I set sail without a compass,

an adequate map,

or the faintest scent 

of a direction.

If I keep going,

I'm bound to end up somewhere;

a faraway land, 

with cinnamon shores.

I'd settle for a familiar coast-

a warm welcome 

at the mouth of the harbor.

At this point I'm not picky.

I just need land, 

I need the earth under my feet.

I need something keeping me stable. 

-LMA 

Winter's Lost Love

The field behind your clapboard house

that we found four short years ago,

through the forest and across the creek,

now lays empty, covered in snow.

  We’d sit under the summer stars

reciting our favorite Whitman lines,

renouncing every thought we had

on the evident advancement of time.

  As quickly as the setting sun

flashed red into our eyes,

so vanished the love we once shared

under those fleeting summer skies.

  Today, tall grass peeks through winter’s blanket,

reminding us of what lies below;

though I’m tempted to shovel up the white,

back to those days I can not to go.

  The memories are now too painful

to be reminded of in this cold.

My hands will never warm again

until yours are mine to hold.

-LMA