A couple of poems

Um, I pulled out a volume of Billy Collins tonight, and a volume of Kerouac, and my little green book of poetry that's stayed at my side for six-odd years now. I don't write much these days, just when something really becomes overwhelming.

Therapy was hard tonight. I cried a lot. And tomorrow, Matt flies into town ... my little bird ... just out of the hospital and trying to break out of his world. Oh, so many things running around my head that I'm just not ready to talk about yet.

I wrote this on the way home, pulled over in a gas station parking lot, under the fluorescent lights streaming into the car. I just needed to get it out.

Hiding
Once upon a time, the game was hide-and-seek --
You shut your eyes and started counting
While I tucked myself into a willow
Shielded from the world.
Ready or not, here you came,
And I held my breath as you passed by,
smiling, undetected.
But somewhere along the way
You found other games that held your interest,
Like Spin the Bottle and Truth or Dare
and Seven Minutes in Heaven.
So I waited under the branches,
Drawing your name in the sandy soil.
And here I stand, a decade later,
Behind the fence built around my tree,
Splay myself, beg you to find me,
Wonder if you even remember the rules of the game.
Ready or not, are you here? Are you coming?
Because I'm tired of hiding,
and, oh God, I'm ready to let go.

Um ... and one from my little green book, just because it's here. Normally, nobody (not even Paul) is allowed to look in it, but I'm feeling brave.

Lines
Every line depicts a purpose,
so the city draws up lines around itself --
a cloak of familiar concrete,
glass facades,
angles and heights.
And we queue up in our lines,
Drive straight to work,
Never consider breaking the mold.
We are purposeful in our conveniences,
Thoughtless as we are told
where to write-park-stand-gather-group
As the city breathes, shivers and stutters,
Straightens up
and retraces long-established lines
As if circles were God.