first funeral

A boy of seven, equal parts
 confidence and unsureness,
 walking behind his siblings
 and his parents,
 headed towards a cemetery.

And the world is alive with green
 and his brother and sister
 alive with rancor,
 but his parents seem to be 
 some other place,
 some place much grayer, like
 a hospital room, with their
 quiet voices, and distant eyes.

And the tie around his neck 
 is vexing, he keeps pulling at it;
 walking what seems like miles until
 they get to a larger group of
 dressed-up people.

And so, now, this is death:
 dressed up people by a beautiful lake,
 his brother and sister jostling each other,
 and his own thoughts on what it would be like

 to be on the bridge of the Enterprise

3 Years Later…

There is a place called "far away"
 she lives; and that is far enough
 that when a message comes, it's like
 a bottle from the universe,
 delivered on the sea of time and space
 and spanning ages lost.

Upon the coast of "far away" she stands
 but thinks of us, some way,
 and send some photos and some words
 describing how she works and lives
 as though, not quite an alien,
 she's more like someone born afar
 but raised on earth, she knows
 the language.

But there is nothing so exotic,
 quite so hard to understand
 as somebody who comes from you
 who now dwells off in "far away"
 and is in every way

 a perfect


12 Perspectives – 12

The day has come;
The door is shut behind.
It's time for all this passion,
And this mind
To make a life, a difference,
A view --
To take control, and see
What she can do.
There's trepidation, and
There's confidence.
But she's a purpose,
And a growing sense
Of those horizons,
Distant, and within,
That she must conquer,
And then re-begin.
She has no static dream,
No stone tableau --
Just knows it's time to live,
And time
To go