From herbs and plants and factories
To trucks to stores to you:
These colors, dripping down the wall,
And turned to residue
From love to womb to hospital
To home to grow to be
A living and creative force
Who’s now a
Memory
From herbs and plants and factories
To trucks to stores to you:
These colors, dripping down the wall,
And turned to residue
From love to womb to hospital
To home to grow to be
A living and creative force
Who’s now a
Memory
The day is still, and clear,
And yet, your distant music’s in my head;
For like the turning leaves
You changed your colors with the days instead
Of keeping to a summer heart –
Of clinging to old reason –
For you, a melody, an art,
Became a season.
And when your story’s told,
The head that hears will wear a certain look
Of kinship to a soul
Once recognized, ne’er yet again mistook;
For lo, the lake is sparkling –
A coin fresh from the minter –
And we must wait for our day as
The autumn waits
For winter
Around the way, out on his lawn,
Precision the result of sweat;
In bright mid-day, or maybe dawn,
A laborer in silhouette —
But years will go – and came a day
He had to go around the way,
And now, his lawn, to one like me,
Is overgrown with memory
here my father stands, a tree
i knew so well,
but never understood
standing unabashedly,
upon the darkened edges of
the silver-glowing wood
a carrier of time am i,
a wanderer who’s long been lost,
a bearer of the ancient songs
he handed to me, covered then
in frost
i seek to know, but silence falls,
and weakness fills me, rapidly,
i know it’s him, but he won’t speak
for there my father stands
a tree
Quietly the city sits
Down the hill the lights come on
Here I wait in rack and ruin
Torn apart by something like regret —
Once, you showed me how to live
How to bravely face my sorrows
You still had so much to feel
So much to feel that you had not felt yet —
Shadows brush against my skin
Eyes are burning with the moon
All of it seems meaningless
Junk and wire, without a “because” —
Torn apart by something like —
Another thing that’s nothing like
It was
You gave us everything you had,
And now, all I can do is hope
You knew the impact that you made
And just how much you shaped us all
For betterment. I know that we
Are not demonstrative – not much –
And that we are not prone to tears
Or words of cheer – or even touch –
But please, please know where e’er you are,
(Though sentiment seems dangerous)
That you were truly, deeply loved
And that we know how much that you
Loved us
Like a path through the ocean,
You seemed an impossibility
To those of us more
Conventional than
You ever were.
But you would never
Walk on water,
You didn’t hold to such.
You were earth and water,
With a touch of fire,
But never the slightest trace
Of anything like wind.
You’d seen the dark before,
And what is more,
You’d been the dark;
And the path you chose
Took you to many rooms
Few people dare enter —
But you lived life,
Not a storybook
Prettied-up version of it.
And when you found love,
You really, truly found love.
You were love, itself, to
Those who loved you,
And your leaving left a hole
Not even an ocean
Could ever fill
You were a kite upon these fields
With string as tight as reach was high;
How strange and empty now it seems –
As your voice echoes down the way,
It echoes down the way.
Two slender plants amid the yields,
Here two of us – yes, you and I –
Dreamed merrily our laughing dreams,
In still enduring yesterday,
Forever yesterday.
But you believed, as I had not,
The good inherent in this life;
And you saw harmony and hope,
Where I saw only war, and strife,
And so you planted, young and deep,
A house with children – one, two, three –
And carried on your joyful way
Along the path of destiny —
But now, the end has come, and gone,
A test was run, a whispered word,
And then you lost a hopeless war
You never knew you’d have to face
You never knew you’d face —
Another morning, one more dawn,
And you, less kite than you were bird,
Have flown, for us to see no more,
But we can still retain your grace,
In this remembered
Windy
Lonely
Place
My friend, I’ve seen you many ways:
In night’s embrace, on windy days,
In cafes orbiting in space,
And other venues commonplace –
But mostly from a distance now.
Our lives have cleft, diverged somehow;
For you and I have lives to lead,
And hills to move, and mouths to feed.
But somewhere, on the shores of light,
There’s life, and love, and good, and right,
I wish for you, each day and week,
Although we may not often speak.
Forever and with all I have,
And out of all we’ve been through,
I hope you always see yourself
The way that I
Have seen you