Poem: Spiral. (There's also a note at the end.)

Tattooed cross below the navel
Dancing in a drunken daze
Barely able to hold your grip
Alone on the floor
A metaphor of you...
Picturesque, but tainted
One question came to mind
More that what should have been asked
What are you running from?
But before I could find the guts to say
A strange man appears
Saying something surely smooth
And you go...
While the moment was lost
Maybe I could have saved you
From what you'll regret in the morning
And from the spiral that winds down


And the note...
Last night I drove about two hours to see an old friend from high school play in his band after a ten hour work day. Strangely enough, driving doesn't bother me if there's good music at the end of the journey. So I drove. For my girlfriends that read this, no there's nothing "romantic" there--trust me. And when I got there, there was a very young girl that arrived shortly after I did. She couldn't have been any older than 22. This poem is about her and a lost moment of needed question. Sad, I know. I wrote this peom after she left with the "strange" man, a stranger.

And I wonder, how many oportunities does God tap us on the shoulder to do something that might not look "cool" and we don't do it. Too many I'm sure we can all say; unless you happen to be wearing a halo I didn't see. This is just food for thought as are most of my posts.

By the way, you should probably also know that I'm most likely going to start up another blog if I continue to blog. I think I've kind of out grown this particular one, so change is a must. When that happens I'll find a nifty way to let you know and/or just leave the link up here as my last post.