Category: Poetry
This Strange Night Too Dark
There he is again
In the moonlight outside her window
Watching, never leaning closer, never touching.
This Strange Night Too Dark
There he is again
In the moonlight outside her window
Watching, never leaning closer, never touching.
Red Dress (revision, 2014.04.30)
Run, Red Dress, run
Run to him
Down the hall,
‘Round the corner,
Through the door
To his bed.
Let your tongue dance
On his cheek and lips
Dance slow wind
Speak hot breath
Bear him away on waves of your kisses and
Deliver him again and again.
Morning (revised 2014.04.21)
It is a moonscape: broken glass, oatmeal concrete, opaque shadows.
Still dim; eyelashes to break citrus, gold, yellow-
Tumbling down stairs, boxes flatten, dominoes fly,
Millipede arms, legs and fingers drumming.
Pictures wave on a curtain of wind,
Strobe lights, lasers and messages on the wall.
Broken down, white cat front-end transmission,
Stagger weighted motion, swinging outward counter-balance steel ball…
The smell of machine oil, the tap of feet
Passing overhead re-lock.
Cylinders revolve, levers catch, barrels rotate,
Meaning, vision and dreams return
Complete.
Start again the day.
My Eyes
With my eyes, I do not see everything.
There is so much in the time between isn’t
And is that I will never know.
Wondrous times of becoming,
Inchoate and virgin,
Mysterious and energetic.
But among us, I know there are those that do participate
In the birth of dawn, rising in the breath between heartbeats,
Each marvelous morning.
And witness the shift of winter to spring
In the way light changes focus in the
Prism of the sky.
As for me,
Last night it snowed,
This morning it rained,
This afternoon while my bedroom window burned
With the sun’s brilliant metallic fire
The trees out back unfolded their first green buds.
In hours, there will be more.
Tomorrow there will be leaves
And in a few days I will not be able to see through
The trees at all.
New Leaf
Today, a new leaf. A green one.
Bird Songs
Bird songs, break of light, a bed of broken shells.
Blue-Jay
Outside my window, the newly arrived Blue-Jay surfs the wind on the twig of a pine tree.
A Smile
“Can I lure the sorrow from your eyes with a smile?” She asked.