where flows the living stream

but when he died,
we stopped;
for those who knew,
found wordless were their thoughts.

does music live,
when those who made it are gone?
or is it merely a ghost,
a fading echo of what was once living?

there was a day,
a strong-remembered afternoon,
with the smell of cooking vegetables and spices.
on that day,
we gathered for the music and the water:
where flows the living stream,
we ride the current.

now, bereft,
a fountain:
today, within,
an abandoned mainspring —

when music flowed like water,
we were alive, we were alive,

we were

 
at peace

This Isn’t My Neighborhood Anymore

This isn’t my neighborhood anymore;
This isn’t the place where I start each day –
Habitual turn to come up this street
I lost awhile back when we moved away

But we raised our kids in a house back there,
And what seemed important then now seems small:
The hopes that we had, and the agonies –
They, none of them now, seem to matter at all

And as I drive by, I feel shuddering,
As though the last ghost just passed through my door:
It, all of it now, has just flown away —
This isn’t my neighborhood
Anymore

Snapshot: Breakup

she asked,
what do you really want?
i said,
i’m sure i do not know.

she stared out at the endless sea,
and watched the wavelets come and go

and as the summer turned a page,
the daylight dimmed as by a switch –
and love grew old, or maybe me —
i still cannot remember
which

snowshots

you took your camera out into the snow
with joy upon your face of twenty-three,
and laughter swelled upon the fields in drifts
and rang across the hollow through the smoke

from chimneys up and down the backyard way,
as images of icicles and frost
and crystalline embodiments you shot,
in days before you’d ever know how good

a picture was, until developing
the film, you’d see if any was worth much
of anything worth keeping then for viewing,
it all was feel, and happenstance, and chance,

just like a snowfall in a southern winter,
just like a day of laughter in the snow,
just like a memory that’s slowly fading,
your words, your face, your laughter, and your voice


Photo credit : ID 49849775 Talashow | Dreamstime.com