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You caught my eye as
I drove past the burnt sienna field
near our home
Raised your snout
as if to mock my humanity
my tether to security
does not meet your approval
I thought
When I stopped to get a better view
you stood silent
your thick sable fir bristling in the
heavy summer breeze
ears perked
showing no fear
When I would lie
in darkness
I often heard you
at the water's edge
where my safety ends
comfortable there
even in the bone cold
of late November
The wind carried your yelp
from house to house
many nights
moonless
waking no one in particular
I was always listening
As the years pass
I can't remember
when I heard you
last
you must have journeyed
up river
East
where your breath grew shallow
then still
under a damp sage
I will miss you
The Water's Edge
I sit on my childhood bed
head lowered
inhaling darkness
last saffron rays of light
Our lives
mundane cadence
years metronome forward
Footprints at the water's edge
Makes more sense now
the void
existence
the sound of one hand clapping
What matters most about being lost
at the water's edge
is that it does not matter which way
your prints point in the sand
In the end
comfort once forbidden
in the dark
has its own slack tide
it's here
that I wash myself as clean
as a new born blade
before the first cut
Your Last Salutation, Lost Forever in the Ethernet
An email arrived today.
I read it in full
my eyes bending to the salutation.
"...Yours, Missy."
I stared at the paragraphs
lifeless letters
words.
The painful goodbye.
All those adjectives
wrapping sadness with
a pretty bow.
Those last thoughts
that inevitably come with parting.
You said it was best
and that someday
I would find my true love as you would.
You want nothing
just to keep the car
you left with and your memories.
You will never hear from me again you wrote.
The email continued:
" the day we walked in the rainy park
I secretly wept
as you would not notice the tears.
All those evenings together
our eyes never meeting
distance building its
empty yardsticks.
Goodbye. "
An hour passed
as I stared at the email's
spell checked
perfect grammar
one last kiss font.
I wondered out loud
who the hell is Missy?
Bionote
Dan participates in poetry readings throughout Northern California, and very much enjoy pushing my comfort zone in this. There is nothing like owning your own work and showing selfish passion for what you write, heavy or light.
Some of my prior publications include the following: Pierian Spring, Brandon University, Canada, The Archer, Poetry Northwest, The Poet, Fine Arts Society, Anthology; Avocet, The Ardent Poetry Journal, California Quarterly, Poetry Now, Aleola Journal of Poetry, Eskimo Pie, Dead Snakes. Thank you Mrs. Davis, Community College English Instructor, for giving this kid from a Mill Town wings.
You are readingf article 3 Poems by Dan Cardoza with link https://denenesommedanser.blogspot.com/2015/11/3-poems-by-dan-cardoza.html
Tilte : 3 Poems by Dan Cardoza
link : 3 Poems by Dan Cardoza
3 Poems by Dan Cardoza
City CoyoteYou caught my eye as
I drove past the burnt sienna field
near our home
Raised your snout
as if to mock my humanity
my tether to security
does not meet your approval
I thought
When I stopped to get a better view
you stood silent
your thick sable fir bristling in the
heavy summer breeze
ears perked
showing no fear
When I would lie
in darkness
I often heard you
at the water's edge
where my safety ends
comfortable there
even in the bone cold
of late November
The wind carried your yelp
from house to house
many nights
moonless
waking no one in particular
I was always listening
As the years pass
I can't remember
when I heard you
last
you must have journeyed
up river
East
where your breath grew shallow
then still
under a damp sage
I will miss you
The Water's Edge
I sit on my childhood bed
head lowered
inhaling darkness
last saffron rays of light
Our lives
mundane cadence
years metronome forward
Footprints at the water's edge
Makes more sense now
the void
existence
the sound of one hand clapping
What matters most about being lost
at the water's edge
is that it does not matter which way
your prints point in the sand
In the end
comfort once forbidden
in the dark
has its own slack tide
it's here
that I wash myself as clean
as a new born blade
before the first cut
Your Last Salutation, Lost Forever in the Ethernet
An email arrived today.
I read it in full
my eyes bending to the salutation.
"...Yours, Missy."
I stared at the paragraphs
lifeless letters
words.
The painful goodbye.
All those adjectives
wrapping sadness with
a pretty bow.
Those last thoughts
that inevitably come with parting.
You said it was best
and that someday
I would find my true love as you would.
You want nothing
just to keep the car
you left with and your memories.
You will never hear from me again you wrote.
The email continued:
" the day we walked in the rainy park
I secretly wept
as you would not notice the tears.
All those evenings together
our eyes never meeting
distance building its
empty yardsticks.
Goodbye. "
An hour passed
as I stared at the email's
spell checked
perfect grammar
one last kiss font.
I wondered out loud
who the hell is Missy?
Bionote
Dan participates in poetry readings throughout Northern California, and very much enjoy pushing my comfort zone in this. There is nothing like owning your own work and showing selfish passion for what you write, heavy or light.
Some of my prior publications include the following: Pierian Spring, Brandon University, Canada, The Archer, Poetry Northwest, The Poet, Fine Arts Society, Anthology; Avocet, The Ardent Poetry Journal, California Quarterly, Poetry Now, Aleola Journal of Poetry, Eskimo Pie, Dead Snakes. Thank you Mrs. Davis, Community College English Instructor, for giving this kid from a Mill Town wings.
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What does peace mean to you?�create your own peace
book. The Peace Project came about through passionate
teachers and a principal, having kids take pictures according
to a theme and their version of how they see peace.
Love sms Friendship is not a game
Friendship is not a game to play, It is not a word to say, It doesn't start on March and ends on May, It is tomorrow, yesterday, today and everyday.
Love sms Moon said to me, if
Moon said to me, if ur friend is not messaging u why dont you leave ur friend.I looked at moon and said does ur sky ever leave u when u dont shine.
Love sms Age appears to be best
Age appears to be best in some things. Old wood best to burn. Old books best to read. Old rice best to eat and old friends best to keep
Love sms God picked up a flower
God picked up a flower and dipped it in a DEW, lovingly touched it which turned in to u, and the he gifted to me and said, THIS FRIEND IS 4U
You are readingf article 3 Poems by Dan Cardoza with link https://denenesommedanser.blogspot.com/2015/11/3-poems-by-dan-cardoza.html
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