When I was sentient, I knew a man
Whose hobby was to build things out of cards:
At least I think. For my attention span
Is very short, and doubtful in regards
To any but the widest boulevards
That truth or lone veracity might take
And subject to drive off, without a brake

At any rate: the guy. His steady hand
Was such that I admired, in the way
He could produce, from what his mind had planned,
Facsimiles of Paris or Marseilles,
Combining games of chance and macrame.
A balancing, precarious and wise
Of miracles set up before our eyes.

The Distorting Power of Memory

As I recall, you loved me,
And thought that I was great;
You wanted to have kids with me,
And couldn’t hardly wait

For wedding bells and honeymoon.
At least, so I recall —
It’s strange how you remember
Never loving me
At all

The Memory I Have of You

The memory I have of you
Is one that’s ever-dimming now;
As other lands and other climes
Take over my recall –

But still, I see a fading bridge,
A perfect sort of summer day,
Just past the edge of words and rhymes:
I almost
See it all

Fall Carnival

Photo Aug 10, 11 50 40 PM - Copy

Young love, what it felt like. A clear Autumn day –
Golden leaves, a blue sky, the bright carnival way;
At fourteen years old with my very true love
A large crowd around us, a few clouds above

The roar and the music, the beautiful girl,
My mind in a passion, my heart in a whirl –
We watched as a pulling glass man did his craft,
And walked our wide circuit from fore back to aft

And we never touched – but somehow she touched me;
In ways that come back now in fair memory.
A crush, I guess, one hardly lasting much longer;
But for that one day, I had never felt stronger

And rarely have since. It was one of those things:
Days when your heart’s dancing and when your soul sings —
When Autumn embraces you, full, as a boy
And all coalesces with love
And in joy

Sonnet – I Wander Freely

I wander freely in and out of dreams
Along a path where long ago we walked;
By tires on long ropes, swung over streams,
Where crickets chirped and frogs croaked as we talked –

And as young lovers do, we also did.
I loved the shy excitement of your eyes;
Your quick’ning breath, as on that path we hid
And tried our civil hearts to naturalize –

I still recall your look, your smell, your taste;
Each element of your glowing embrace –
To sin not, nor repent, in any haste,
To watch a moonlight shadow on your face –

With you I wander there in ecstasy:
With you, who’s never spent one dream on me

A Wondrous World

A farm, my parents’ friends had …

A farm, my parents’ friends had;
I went there as a kid –
It’s been a half a century
Since we did what we did

And memories of hay lofts
And early morning sounds
Come drifting back to me, as though
From very distant grounds –

For I six years old, then,
And all was new, and fair:
It is still new, in memory,
Though now in disrepair

For we have two worlds, always:
The one that’s here – and real —
And one that stays within us,
And guides the way we feel

For poetry and memory
Have this one thing they share:
They each can build a wondrous world
That isn’t really