Can’t see beyond the lights
listening to the same old songs
but that didn’t stop us
from drawing conclusions
on yet another late night drive
where we got lost
and it’s taking even longer
than we expected
knowing full well
this has been one hell of a year
Swirling walls of ice
crackling trees and sky alike
we carve our story
into the frozen ground
foretelling in season
the treasure of time is us
Waiting for day’s end
on the way to nowhere in particular
in a moment beyond the outer reaches of time
subtle bends in the grasslands
whisper all the needs to be said
Fall electric.
There should be a poem about this.
Or is the photo the poem?
Rather the tree in the fall
at the time this picture was taken
was the poem.
This is the poem.
This is why
we’re here
to find ourselves
in the middle of nowhere
This poem and photograph originally appeared in the literary magazine Mojave Heart Review.
The stars that aren’t there
map a nightly journey
along the water’s edge
to a path through overgrown bush
where I can lay down
on a conjured bench
and watch the leaves fall
Quiet descends in waves
a spectrum of where
ever sky is upon the lands
This poem and photograph originally appeared in the literary magazine Mojave Heart Review.
Awoke to find ourselves
in the same grove of trees
we can’t quite place
When were we there?
Never said we couldn’t
have the same dreams
Nothing left for us to do
but go back to sleep
and look for each other
once again in the grove of trees
we can’t quite place
The dream had set an exquisite table
I was met by myself
and together we shared a meal
Just before dawn
we woke ourselves up
at once not remembering
a word of the conversation
Jeffrey Yamaguchi 
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