the breeze blew briskly
over the mired marshy shore prodding the cautious cattails to bow and rise and bow again until the breeze died down once more
a chime of climbing wrens
bobbing dipped their beaks and trillful singing dropped to the marsh and landed gladfully on the cattails clasping stalks
and i again in ventures new
consumed as ever, beloved, by thoughts of warmly you watched their spryful play sailing aloft and back again resting anew
knowing at that moment
beyond a single doubt how magically mysterious time telling tales engages spirits and singing eyes seeking on
but that regardless the day
and despite the aging way this careful me steps on, always and forever beats in this breast a heart so grateful
for the time i shared,
most beautiful soul, with you
Salinas 03 September 2022
Image by Evgeni Tcherkasski from Pixabay
I laugh well and often enough,
sounds of mirth rising richly from the core of my soul.
My smile is neither timid
nor falsely conveyed, however disbelieving you may be.
I rise every morning, dress,
sip my tea with honest pleasure, and kiss my children goodbye.
I step into the world each day
intent on carrying concealed my angry burdens as my own.
But they are there, as are yours,
and wholly formed, albeit raw as a fresh wound at times.
You may not see it on my skin,
but that may only be because the damage takes time to show.
Watching another spring snowfall in Salt Lake City (15 Apr 2021)
loss is not always so concise
so precisely severed by sharpened words and shrill retorts and allegations that beggar belief
loss might crawl between you
insidious and still the expanding space on the couch the dulling patter the silent bed
loss should never be so easy
so effortlessly attained I’d much rather you screamed at me cracked open my skull crushed my heart
if I must be cut away from you,
then for God’s sake, use a proper knife
That was me—
the happiest me apparent not only for the smile but for the glow emanating from my supposedly knowing soul.
It was March,
and I certain declared for a future unfearing with most endearing you truly unencumbered.
But then April came
and you fell, oh God, how you fell so so hard shattering the spine of your loving soul.
And the March me
withering wandered through meaningless days awaiting the waxing moon to birth a new hope,
leaving trembling me
to endure on masticated memories that growl desperation in the deepest hollows of shallow nights.
You didn’t really expect to find anything more
beneath the surface of all of this did you?
Beyond the cheap and oh so uninspiring banter
that cheekily exudes from these desiccated lips,
beneath the greying ever expanding skin that binds
within a perpetually painful collection of pointless bits,
besides the once unrestrainedly fertile imagination
that birthed nearly clever books and pithy boasts—
there is nothing more today than an aching heart
that occasionally weeps unnoticed for its youth
and a prayer never spoken, not even once
but clung to for the simple hope of seeing the sun again.
what is it you really see
when first your eyes open
peering through the light
of the slowly ascending sun
falling from the mountains
to kiss warmth across
your glowing cheeks?
surely it is not me you see
leaning needfully over you
ever hopefully attendant
blending my lips to yours
it is not my face at all
but a variant thereof
know that in the sorrow
of your declining lips
there is but a specter of me
and in the mournful lines,
in the cracks of your vision
that pierce my rueful being
there is a me that is not me
in your grieving sight
am i a shadow of truth
cringing coldly in corners
fearful of the damning light
longing for the blackest night
and the harrowing cry
of the wailing bean nighe
endless nights pervade
a soul bound to Hades’ whim
clinging to cypress
Salt Lake City 26 Sep 2012
silence adorns you
pretence imagines your heart
no longer grieving
Çeşme, Turkey 25 July 2012
find me i’ hadre
furh noht thy bru swa wynsum
streow petaln aloft
Salt Lake City 19 May 2012
NOTE: I am in something of an aging mood just now, my heart feeling at once heavy and yet so light and full of loving joy, while my body is weighing me unbearably down. And in this uncompromising mood, my mind turns to Old English. This haiku is not written true to Old English grammar, but I have chosen older words that fit my feeling. If you’re wondering at the pronunciation, try reading it with something approaching a Germanic-Gaelic accent. That should help. The translation of this near jibberish would be:
find me in heather
furrow not thy brow so winsome
strew petals aloft
Sitting among the ruins of Ildırı, Turkey (5 Jul 2010)