She lays her head to rest, because she must.
In visions, winter carries her away:
To icy ballrooms, floors of sparkle-dust,
And lovers dancing. Hair in disarray,
She spins across a crystal wonderland,
A prince whose shining face she can’t quite see —
Her tired head laid still across her hand,
And aching dreams her life at apogee.
the vestiges of love
are spread now far and wide,
and ground so very fine
they are not freely spied
but cold as stems the day
they are there nonetheless,
and wait for spring for come
to spoll their
blessedness
We seek, at times, we-know-not-what,
Empowered by our yearning;
A season’s born and dies away,
The restless earth keeps turning
We scan, we search, expectantly,
Just hoping that we’ll see it —
The future that we long for, maybe
We were meant
To be it
Another phase, another type of platform,
A place to launch, a time to say goodbye;
A thousand things we meant to do, but didn’t,
The Fir-tree and The Catcher In The Rye
The literary lessons learned in losing,
The hopes of soaring ‘neath a brand new sky —
Another phase, another type of platform,
A place to launch, a time to say
Goodbye
I am the forest and the trees,
I am the road that calls you home,
I am the friendly surfaces
Of every “welcome” and “shalom”
That waits for speaking at the door
Of all the “where’s” where you belong
Should you be tired, weak, or sore.
I’ll be there, love, however long —
Today, tomorrow,
Evermore
They tossed a Frisbee back and forth
Out on the college lawn;
Their only labor on that day
Was jumping after mis-throws.
I watched them through a window-pane
For several hours, straight,
A book that I was reading lay
Mostly uncomprehended —
And as I watched these other guys,
Whose names I didn’t know,
I looked around me at
My fallow dorm room, new
(My roommate I had yet to meet)
And wondered if I’d ever get to know them.
A junior transfer, me, I was
Both worried and excited:
But feeling like
I’d walked into the middle of
A play, one which
The others saw a first act that
I’d missed.
Another friend came out to join them,
And he brought three cans
Of something they all sat awhile and drank.
And I was like a kid again
In still another neighborhood,
Watching another set of boys
And hoping for an invite.
Looking down, I noticed that
I hadn’t turned a page
Of Dandelion Wine
In quite awhile,
The world was autumn-ready,
And I guess that I was, too,
In my distracted way.
Another moment of my ever-long
Distracted
Way
The world will soon be yours, my little one - I’ll watch you learn and grow, your little hands as they reach out to touch, and understanding lights your shining eyes And as you now can rest in me, you’ll always have a place to lay your head when, after busy day, you need to dream awhile, peacefully And you won’t ever fail to know your mother loves you, fully and completely A burning strength within yourself, from which you can explore, and reach the stars - The world will soon be yours, my liitle one, the same way you’re already mine
Hope, a village in the sun,
Built on ancient clay,
Burns anew with coming light
Each and every day
Hope’s a village burgeoning,
Do not think she’s sleeping —
There, the future of mankind
Always finds
It’s keeping
Letting go is all he knows.
She told him to, and so he did,
But feels an emptiness inside
Like oceans full of everything
And nothing
For what has been
Is nevermore:
There’s just an ever kind of ache,
For both the love that went
And all the hope that it
Took with it
She told him to, and so he did —
A bright day in his memory
Outside his darkened room, a warm wind blows
Such things aren’t meant to be
Why is it
Just a scent
Can bring her back
Into a brain
That swears to everyone
That letting go is all he knows
