Bairro Alto

poem for her dog

poem for her dog

she, a tiny ball,

curly and black,

so weak now

and all she is

is soul,

alive through love

until love

will take her home

sometimes her eyes

ask what happens

like a child

and though she 

knows like a child,

the answer

is in presence

and touch

and we know

when we see,

she knows

all.

she is pure

and will be,

her colors

are joy and life

and her life

will be 

running ,

jumping high grass

across the sunset

unleashed

released

into happiness 

one day

we will miss her

but she will stay

in mind and heart

off and on

wagging her tail

with a soft bark

and somehow a smile

poems

one day

i met my heart

and yours

another day

i wanted

to be a poem

and be voice

and silence

i longed 

to be a pause

between breaths

and waves

rising and sinking,

a space 

growing out

into skies infinite

i wanted 

to be a poem

living

though i am

just me, a man

alone

who wants to sing

in your arms

until

you may listen

without hearing

beyond words

walking a bit too much...