Come all the way down with me

out behind the backstop
i smoke the stars into place.
then i continue until
they begin making sense.

call it coping.
call it destructive.
but i've already spent
a beautiful day of missing you.

Counting Down The Hours

Lying in the outfield,
watching white clouds float across a sky so blue that it could
change the color of your eyes.


Y'know how we talked about the ocean?
Well this is another one of those instances
that I don't want to wash out of my hair just yet.