Tales

i wanted it to be
the way it is
in stories

it turns out
the same… again
his eyes that way
my ears this way
differences dividing
right down our centre

i wanted it to be
new found love
the way it often begins
and ends in books

my heart never learns
that kind of love
those guys
are only tales

Art

How Life Appears

What I see
is not what is at all

I look
and tell myself tales
of how life appears
of where I’ve been
and where I’m going

That’s the trouble
with a writing mind
you never know
what part of it
you should believe