The room where
we fell in love
was drenched in
golden sunlight this Fall.
(You missed it for the third time.)

Snowflakes find their homes
along bare tree branches
outside what used to be
your window.
( My home is in you
but yours is the loneliness
of the California hills.)

San Jose helps me
understand you,
what it's like
to never know freedom.
(Demons like a ball and chain.)

© ramblingneurotic