It's a still life water color,
Of a now late afternoon,
As the sun shines through the curtained lace
And shadows wash the room.
And we sit and drink our coffee
Couched in our indifference,
Like shells upon the shore
You can hear the ocean roar
In the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs,
Are the borders of our lives.

And you read your emily dickinson,
And I my robert frost,
And we note our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we've lost.
Like a poem poorly written
We are verses out of rhythm,
Couplets out of rhyme,
In syncopated time
Lost in the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs,
Are the borders of our lives.

Yes, we speak of things that matter,
With words that must be said,
Can analysis be worthwhile?
Is the theater really dead?
And how the room is softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow,
I cannot feel your hand,
You're a stranger now unto me
Lost in the dangling conversation.
And the superficial sighs,
In the borders of our lives.

• 7 O'clock News/silent Night
• A Poem on The Underground Wall
• America
• At The Zoo
• Baby Driver
• Bleeker Street
• Blues Run The Game
• Bookends
• Bridge Over Troubled Water
• Bye Bye Love
• Cecilia
• Cloudy
• El Condor Pasa
• Fakin' It
• Feuilles-o
• Flowers Never Bend With The Rainfall
• For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her
• Hazy Shade of Winter
• He Was My Brother
• Hey, Schoolgirl/black Slacks
• Homeward Bound
• Keep The Customer Satisfied
• My Little Town
• Old Friends
• Overs
• Patterns
• Peggy-o
• Punky's Dilemma
• Red Rubber Ball
• Save The Life of My Child
• Scarborough Fair/canticle
• So Long, Frank Lloyd Wright
• Song for The Asking
• Sparrow
• The 59th Street Bridge Song
• The Boxer
• The Dangling Conversation
• The Only Living Boy in New York
• The Sun is Burning
• Wednesday Morning, 3 a. M.
• Why Don't You Write Me