To bridge across an empty space They made the wood and metal one; In years before the years before The living business still got done — The dying business, too. We know And yet we don’t, although it’s clear We’re only where we are for those Whose lives and deeds had disappeared A while before … Continue reading "To Bridge Across"
to be more, see more; to see beyond, reach beyond — as even the trees know, growing is always about all the directions
the love the same the passions pure with lovers true but yet unsure it’s hard from here to know them there: but if they weren’t, we’d all be air
I give you what I have in posts For we are poor in other ways; We walk along the waterside And dream of nights, amid these days, Of multitude, and lassitude, And attitude, and power: A sun that shines on shoulders cold, A view atop the tower … Continue reading "Posts"
People come to me and say, “Live as though there’s just today.” Need that really now be said? Life is short, and soon we’re dead — Dead to memory, and touch: It’s not thinking overmuch Knowing that, since life short, It’s more than a watcher’s sport. Days to come are not what was; Living is … Continue reading "A Solo Among the Couplets"
in former days they knew they were the pinnacle of all things new they stored their trophies carelessly; the way they did, and we still do for morays change, as do our fashions, each but here a little while and little then seems relevant, save hubris, which has stayed in style
The barren winter calls across the lake, But what they hear are very diff’rent sounds; Each sees the world on their own chosen grounds: Results of choices that they daily make. For she sees death in winter’s every move: The cold becomes a penetrating freeze That brings her down, somewhere past mere unease To having … Continue reading "Barren Winter"
We should not care so much about appearance. I read this everyday, and everywhere — But yet we will; and brook no interference In judging others. Nor curtail our care For our own looks; for our own way of seeming. We seem to want to have this thing both ways — The moral view, that … Continue reading "Mixed Signals"
There is a stealing kind of day That takes your heart and wrings it dry; There is an echo on the sea Of all the “what’s” that have no “why” — There is a time in all our lives When we must face that fact that we Will never see the life we dreamed, Or … Continue reading "Essays in Success – 3"