20 Friday Apr 2018
Nothing to hold onto,
the castle crumbling,
narrow a ledge, heavy the stone, cracking
walls and the mind hunts
for where to land
and it leaps to worry, no,
Fear projected onward, forever, helplessly.
Alone, like this, a sore eating away flesh-
and not real.
Grasping does haunt,
bite in and seep out, a rising fever.
But
it is a snarling shadow dog.
Sit,
solid, alive, and watch the demolition-
you’ve brought about the Fall,
soak up its awesome, fleeting
magnificence.
17 Tuesday Apr 2018
A hurt grows
of missing meaning
and nothing but letting it
will answer the call
until I know what she’s asking.
Waiting
in longing
discomfort
may last
through spring,
a windy season punctuated by screaming gulls,
rotating buzz saws of this coastal spit.
17 Tuesday Apr 2018
I’m surrounded by endings here.
And I came back,
came back
to where what can grow
I don’t know.
The ties, bindings, wrappings and scenarios
they’re old,
done, hardened and strange.
Perhaps the ghosts need herding,
finally clearing the pasture for
what belongs beneath this patch of sky
of salt, and pine, cypress and stone.
Too much concrete dulls the senses-
Sun aches to touch earth,
it may be my time to help her do so.
15 Sunday Apr 2018
Beauty is
bird suspended, waves breaking one
in to another,
hills woven of shoulders, hips, toes,
clouds sliding across blue..
It is not the
must possess, perfect, expensive, mechanical conquest
mine,
but
connection, relationship, tangle of bouncing language, laughter song around the twilighted corner, and
being followed softly home.
How did we confuse it with a thing to buy,
an object to have,
a keeping to be kept by?
She tells her own story,
never upon command, and
if meaning vanishes the crease between our brow,
planting our feet more firmly on this earth,
we are in her Presence, an arrival of moments
passing by at any hour.
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 