The sober morning light

Promised a clear new day

With a harsh resolution

To see things as they were,

But after reflecting about

The woes of the world

For the entire daytime,

She had become jaded

And her judgement faded;

Later that same evening,

She was spotted at a beach

In a wine-colored dress

With bare feet in the sand,

Deliciously inebriated

And watching a pale moon

Rising over caliginous waves.

If I had a shop

I would fill up the shelves

With amethyst angels

And emerald elves

And black onyx panthers

With rubies for eyes

And lithe topaz fairies

As blue as the skies

I’d have turquoise tortoises

Buddhas of jade

And solid gold watch fobs

With diamonds in-laid

There’d be tiger’s eye lions

And quartz crystal cats

Peridot puppies

And sapphire bats

Yes, if I had a shop

I would light up the scene

With a huge chandelier

Made of aquamarine

There’s a dip in the road

Up on Ravenstone Ridge

Where it crosses Wine Creek

On an old wooden bridge.

I remember my dad

With us kids in the Ford–

How we flew down that road!

How he had “The Bomb” floored!

When we got to the dip,

We were launched into space

With us kids and the dog

Flying all over the place,

And my dad laughed so hard

When we flew in The Bomb,

But he made us kids swear

We would never tell mom!

 

–Photo by me

lives and leaves

are torn

from their trees

and borne

upon autumn winds

they dip

and swoon and race

madly

across the face

of the moon

scattering afar

until at last

they spiral down

to the earth

to form

that final mound

after all

we all fall down

 

Siblings

Brawling

Scribblings

Crawling

Nibblings

Bawling

Dribblings

Falling

Once brilliant reds

Now softened

In a late September light,

Our pastel matte

Will fade until

We’re left with only white,

And when the winter

Finally comes

And daylight hours few

I wonder if the people all

Do fade a little too.

 

–Photo by me

my wife died of anxiety

morphine was the means

but anxiety was the cause

she saw no cure but death

now she finally rests in peace

but her three children carry on

with the anxiety they inherited

and now, a profound sadness

i cry for them

i can’t finish this poem

sorry

 

 

Sixty-two times around the sun

A thirty billion mile run

I’d clung to Earth both day and night

As twenty thousand times it spun

 

My life is four or five dogs old

The beating of my heart, untold

I’ve tholed a dozen presidents

And watched a score of wars unfold

 

And though time flows and hours gain

And moments seem to wax and wane

Within the cosmic hourglass

Time passes only grain by grain

 

(Originally posted 12-2016)

devoid of matter

full of substance

souls are stories

spun

from silver space

and golden time

each is a valiant

epic

told anew around

an ancient campfire

and echoing through

time

our ethereal souls

leap into the sky

like these burning

sparks

to abide forever

among the timeless

constellations of

stars