dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: water

Three neon numbers

Glare at bleary eyes.

Don’t blink-

Think of consequences,

Of cold water splashed on your face,

Of one thick black mallet

Smashing the alarm clock

Into silent smithereens.

Imagine anything,

Just don’t

Go back

To sleep.

One plastic red cup
Anchored down with water weight
Was our sun as we orbited
The splintered picnic table.

Dipping long paintbrushes
Into our pond water paint,
We like cavemen drew
Crude designs on rock canvases.

More smooth brown stones
In a basket of rusted wire
Waited to be turned miraculously
Into the object of our appetites

Some might say
Our soggy paintbrush strokes
Dragged across dirty stones
Vanished with the summer breeze,

But my fingertips absorbed each drop
Just before they blew away
And now, racing in streaks up my arms,
The droplets display their color.



You are
The warm puddle water that
Over the top
Of my rainy day boots,
Slip-dripping down,
Penetrating my socks
Until their sogginess
With each step. 


He doesn’t see

The cup at all,

Just tiny sparkling water waves


That wash over

Measurements and


Crossing borders

Like the ocean,

Drifting unnoticed

In the proverbial glass

Half empty,

Half full.