2 Friends in Conversation

Just a glimpse:
A later session
Sketching out
A brief impression

  That my eyes
  Just hap’d to see –
  But that somehow
  Changes me

Elegant, both
Long and lovely,
Light and bubbly

  That I chanced
  To overhear –
  Yet I still
  Can hear them clear

In isolation,
Girlfriends rapt
In conversation

  In scenes of leisure;
  Sketching images
  For pleasure


Fan the fires of your lives,
These short and storied lives —
The fires that are everything
We are.

Use the colors as you will,
Be where and what you will —
And let your hearts know motion, and
Know still.

  There was a time
  Another time and place,
  Before the spoken rules,
  The rules that say
  To show instead of tell,
  And whose experience
  Is even worth
  A hearing —

  But ignorance
  Can earn a fine degree,
  And still be ignorance;
  For where you’ve been
  You’ve learned
  Through cuts and shearing —

These fires are your right,
Your inborn, sacred right —
You must not let some other
Write your songs.

And critics:
Do not kid yourselves at last,
There always comes “at last” —
The microscope gets turned around

On you

A Glimpse of Verdure

We lived within a concrete fort
And dreamed our fatalistic dreams;
Our perished thoughts were gray as fog
And mordant were our plots and themes

As we were drawn and lately spent,
A window to a thought was seen.
A glimpse of verdure on the lea,
A possible escape

The green

broken red

i found him broken on the floor
in pieces thick and red,
then waited for the help to come,
unwrapping all he'd said

my thoughts were quick and panicky,
my confidence, all air --
for no one solves a problem quite
like one whose never there

the lifting and the carrying,
the words of comfort soft,
the whiteness of the anodyne,
the hope i held aloft --

then someone said he'd be okay.
that broke the dams of grief:
there was no understanding this,
for all was disbelief

but what we cannot understand
we may see yet, and clear:
that broken red is everywhere
just waiting to