To Climb to the Moon

When I climb as an adult, I check in

with my body; 

I know the limits of my muscles. I know

when my fingers are about to slip

from the rock. I know when I’m going to fall. 

But as a child I never had this gauge.

In the woods my brother and I climbed

huge Ponderosa pines that towered

over town. We went straight up

hand over branch over hand

and we never looked down.

From the top we saw things

from great heights. 

Now, I wonder if I can achieve

the same feat; I will never get that high

with this self-consciousness.  

I will never love you 
without letting go of this self-preservation.

Bent on Love

She is bent

on love in this life.

For, she says, I would rather watch

the luscious sunset

with someone than without. 

And here we have arrived

at the train of this thought

where the absence of someone

is not the same as being alone 

and yet we must ask,

then why do we have a mouth

if not to open it and talk

to another, if not to kiss, 

why do we have a heart

if not to open it and fly

a little

before the violet sky

closes

into darkness again?