Poetry of Jonny Alexander Nay

 No one is calling my name anymore,  from the back of the house, where lilac, blooms our boisterous achievement.    good to know you!  to close to understanding.  or realization maybe?  no way, it's just as it is.    A spiritual concept: seasons.  

 I don't know how all of this stuff, got spread out over time like this.  I swear I was trying to meet where you were at, but I got selfish, in asking you to go out and enjoy the sunset.  Just once, you heathen.    I cause something, you see as pernicious.   and something is lost between us.  something close to the sunset,  or the jump between, enjoyment.    when we getting close to talking: really...  it was a fault? no way.   not all that bad.