Ashes

I still go to call you.
When the door opens
I rise to run to greet you.
So I took your number from the phone
and now just look for it.
I lock the door,
So it cant open
Unbidden.

We tossed your ashes to the river.
I stood downwind,
Poured them into my hand,
Threw them high.
They flecked across the moon,
They mixed with the new grey in my hair,
Covered my face.
I took a breath
Deep.
Your ashes
Taste of salt.

The Incredulous Traveler: Weight, Work and Wonder in the Journey of Everyday Life This began as an intermittent travelogue on WW; intermittent as I don't travel much. Soon it was more than about food and, upon missing a day, emails arrived asking where my posts were. I am amazed at the everyday world around me; the beauty, absurdity, ignorance and joy. In the midst of this wonder and surprise, I work to maintain my weight, creativity, sanity and humor; to be awake, aware and still happy when it would be far easier to pay no attention at all and to walk my days asleep.Adamus at Large: An Incredulous Traveler on Weight, Work and Wonder in the Journey of Everyday Life. That's the title but, well, it won't fit. So here it is. A friend once told me, after a rune reading, that I was put here by Odin to annoy people into doing the right thing. I am a Father, husband, friend. I am a poet, writer, educator and I sing, sing, sing. I perform, love improv and guerilla theater.