(from: Age Sixty-nine) There is this circle I walk that I have learned to love. I hope one day to be a spiral but to the birds I'm a circle. - Jim Harrison

You can have a pretty good first line but not a strong enough thought to tag along more lines and sometimes in the middle words become bored and make war on one another. Notebooks are full of these fragments, shrapnel of our intention. Life is short on conclusions and that's why it's often a struggle to end a poem.

They merged again one evening sitting on the porch swing watching fireflies and the thousands of stars above them, idly moving the swing back and forth with their feet. The night was unbearably beautiful with the constellations speaking their own strange language to each other. He told her he thought it might be the uninvented language used by Jesus and the Buddha to speak to each other.

"Birthdays are ghost bounty hunters that track you down to ask, "Que pasa, baby?