going home isn’t always
returning to a place.
sometimes
it is returning to yourself.

Even if life was 99% pain and 1% joy,
I would choose knowing joy every time.

All morning & into the night,
Searching the universe for words
That might move you this way again;
Wishing they were available,
Or could be cobbled together.
Suggestions are welcome,  I'll pay
What I can--a nickel a word,
A sawbuck if you keep it short--
Maybe eternal devotion
For the time we got left,  enough
If we stretch it, to storm heaven.

words belong to this world
words flip-flap
and fill the whole sky
like heavy clouds
white or dark
they shed light
and lead hearts at night
but they too migrate
leaving the skies all empty
silence remains
when words fly away

picking ripe plump figs
each one marred by pecking holes
~ pleasantly plump birds






Mark Toney © 2021