A stranger that I know
lies deeply in leafy mold.
We speak by mumbles in opportune nights.
He is always looking away
to some mystery
true and precious,
but I cannot follow his eye.
He surprises me on inopportune days-
pulling those strings,
a pretense of wings,
unknowable things.
Oh my…
~I walk the sunny block. As I round a corner, there are three young girls ahead of me. I wear dark glasses, a toque, coat and mitts. One girl looks back quickly, and seems to speak to the others. They quicken their pace. A mother suns herself, follows me with her eyes. I sadden.~
Hemoglobin
Bubbles are venous
in the red river’s valleys-
oxygenated.
Spring shall overcome
Bare of snow and ice we were
In the winter’s dwindling days
And we marked upon the calendar
The season’s changing phase
Eager things poked up their heads
To test the springtime air
Some colour in the flowerbeds
To grace a fairy’s hair
But the sun, it paled, as iron dull
And windy came the cold
And liveliness was in a lull
In the garden’s chilly mold
Bereft of cheery focuses
We sat within the grey
The cruelty of coaxed crocuses
The frost had done away
Diamond rain upon us now
It froze to every tree
Power wires were weighted down
In the darkness we would be
The wind at last abated fast
But the dullness and the cold
Recalled our bones to winters past
And jeered at summer’s gold
Once more there came upon our door
A storm of last betrayal
‘Twas April’s cruelest paramour
‘Twould upon our hearts prevail.
***
Today, a brightness lit my room
Awaking me from slumber
Gone were clouds of sullen gloom
And there were birds without a number
The layer cake of ice and snow
That covered all the land
Was giving way, as water flowed
Down drains choked up with sand
The sadness of the icicle
As it lost its winter weight
‘Twas dripping on the bicycle
Forgotten by the gate
And me, I felt a little thrill
And the windows I would open
And though there’s still a little chill
The winter’s spell is broken.
***
Image is from Pinterest
In the wet of dream
In the wet of dream
she rides on the rocking horse,
gloves the mast of sleep.
Clippered
With slow regard
I watch the lengthening of fingernails.
~Grow out. Grow out~
~Take with you the sour pain,
this aura’s pollution~
Clipper you to the quick,
I will,
in foolish absolution.
[Image: https://pixabay.com/users/saulhm-31267/ ]
In dreams…
Wants a cigar-
those wrapped leaves of browning fragrance.
Wants a cold pint of draft-
that swirling stew of barleyhops.
Also, we think,
a bleeding steak with spuds au gratin-
not this cardboard fare-this imitation of life.
Ah well, a guy can dream, can’t he?
one touch
One touches me
warm hands and scissors
My eyes are of the fish
of the cat
Such tremble
So simple
***
Premonitions
My alien comes
in soft moments of quiet-
a prescience on bug feet,
and, all at once,
I am fleshed in the realness of an eye.
All at once
fated dramas are seen
as certain and irreversible,
writ on stone tablets.
And then we sleep,
perchance to dream…
***
Deeper
Give me the undercurrents
and not the shiny shallows.
The math of founding harmonies,
dark forests in their hallows.
***
