The Last

A fall day like the others, 
With summer lately past;
Two voices on the lake again,
As fishing lines were cast.

Then we recalled the first time.
When I was only five,
The air full of excitement,
Just to be, to be alive —-

That was awhile ago, now.
Some twenty years have passed:
Then we recalled the first time,
Now I recall the last.

For all we love and what we love
Comes one day to an end,
And it’s on us to know it
As we choose the way we’ll spend

The time we have, and lines we’ll cast,
And who we’ll cast them with:
To take the time for living
While there’s still life

To live



A Storm

A STORM is coming soon, and we will see 
If humans conquer nature after all;
It seems to me more likely the reverse,
Or else we would live longer without pain,
And things would be more better than more worse.

The clouds that gather do not know our names;
The viruses we spread heed not our dreams.
A storm is coming, someday or today,
And we will understand our place in things
When all we’ve built and cherish blows away

Rising Wind

BORN of the body, memories 
Of where she was, and what she felt;
Every bone with different marrow,
Pangs that in the sun just melt,

Capillaries of inclusion,
All in one, and one in all:
Birthed in sorrow’s touch, and needing
Rising wind and waterfall.

There for the taking, melodies
That soothed her ears and calmed her heart;
Smells of breakfast cooking, frying,
Transferred to a world apart,

Knees and shoulders free from aching,
Hair no longer gray or thinned;
Born of the body, turned to fire,
Soaring on the rising wind.

The Broken Dawn

I am the broken dawn, the straggling day. 
Arrived again, but to no purpose led -- 
I see the world in mist before me spread, 
But find no answering, no well-lit way 

To where, again, the sun connects the pulse 
To things that matter; weighed down like a plinth, 
I stand unmoving in this labyrinth 
As nearly-dead as any who 

Convulse