Stories from L.A.

        The Poetry Page


You built your castle
on sand, calling it bedrock,
swearing
you meant to live there forever,
even as you made beds elsewhere.

I never wished you anything but well
and only once did I call your house
of cards what I thought it was.
You shrugged me off
with some half explanation
so I chose
to let you lie to me too.
I chose to believe your love
rested on solid foundations.

Then time passed,
a slow shift of earth.
I found you
a man without a castle.
There is nothing wrong
with being a man with sand
between his toes
if you know that’s what you are.



October, 2010