Floodlight

At the peak of the barn carved

Shadows

Into the silent salt box house that

Leaned too close

To the country road I traveled

Every night

Its wide-eyed

Curtain-less windows

Stared

Onto an empty gravel driveway

And a treeless yard

With its cropped

Black grass

Some nights I would slow the car and

Peer into its hollows

Searching

For a glow

A movement

Someone standing in the dark

Looking back

I Needed You, Niagara Falls

Your cascading cataracts

Constantly coursing

Confidence

Cleaving the copious

Clouds

That congregate in this cranial

Crevasse

Clamoring to contradict my

Compendium of

Concern and consequence

Sing Out

Old troubadour

Forgotten prophet

Your songs have returned

From their forty year

Pilgrimage

To a world

Changed

But the same

Then

The wind carried your fervent words

Effortlessly

Now

Your voice cracks against the

Nostalgic breeze

Game of Words

'Sometimes'

Is the versatile Queen

Patient

Supreme

The Bishop and Rook

On disparate paths

Are 'always' and 'never'

Respectively

The expendable Pawns

Are the first to come out

Eager conjunctions

'And'

'Or'

'But'

The mysterious trail of the

Knight asks

'Who'

'What'

'When'

And the King

He is

'Yes'

Capture to win