Just beyond the firelight 
where light fades 
into the dark forest
buried in night,
sounds of night creatures:
crickets, frogs . . . 
a barking dog . . .
an owl’s lonesome hoot . . .
wails of coyotes . . . 
all like a discordant symphony.

I douse the fire and wait.

Deja Vu arrived today delivered  
     by Fed Ex
        by Fed Ex
            by Fed Ex

As always efficiently to
    my doorstep
        my doorstep
            my doorstep

Just when I thought my package was there 
    it came again
        it came again
            it came again

over many lifetimes when time reversed itself
running backwards away only to
    repeat mistakes
        repeat mistakes
           repeat mistakes

Skewed perceptions locked in time and space
alter alternative reality that 
		all is at once
			all is now
				sometimes sneaking up on the unaware 
					we have all been here before.

Lonesome highway blues,
eyes itch, head aches after a midnight run.

Rickety van ambles on 
from my confinement before the reaper came.

Interstate highway west,
creative life blood, soother of my soul.

Sitting on a bench
the last stop before Wyoming emptiness.

She sat betraying sadness
only the poet knows, only the poet suffers.

Paisley gypsy dress
long blond dirty hair hanging to taut waist.

“A rIde mister?”
a voice asked, no words spoken.

Her soul and backpack
fell onto my raggedy salvation mattress,

Already asleep
with dreams of a sage desert plain.

We danced a song
on Medicine Bow Peak at the dawn of life.

I dropped the sacred crystal
into the magic cairn for a pagan mountain god.

She smiled her approval
with a heart kiss from smiling Hera

An eagle flies circles
above prayer flags fluttering in still air.

A wolf pup howls for its mother.

The way we talked
sad mumble jumble
incomplete thoughts
on a silly sultry
summer night when June kissed Luna goodnight.

That night we 
danced slowly
to a Viennese waltz
played by a 
rock band in
the empty street of shuttered store fronts where the dreamless slept.

Have we ever
learned anything
of each other
from the endless discourse of incomplete sentences without noun or verb?

At the dawn
Morrigan played
her silver flute
with her black
feathered fingers
and you became me
and I became you the final battle lost forever and we were now immortal.

Aphrodite found
her revenge
as we drank our 
morning coffee
with our croissants
that fed our bliss
and we wrote
our new poetry
and sonnets about futility of love we would share for eternity.