Month: November 2017

A narrow doorway flaps open to spread its wings
keeping flight.

We’re off to Mississippi where cotton is snow
in the summertime. Mockingbirds sing sweet songs
all year long. Magnolias scent the air.

I kiss the sunset
and such magic falcons
such dreams unanswered

All those muscle junkies
lifting eternity
pushing weights into sky
reaching against time

an old dowager pushing
her walker as if the next
step might just be her last.

this is no longer a poem
about bowling
or about the town
I grew up in

get the audience
looking in one direction
and then surprise them
from another

on the wolf-edged page
magpies gather

time has blown away years of him
like birds gone in a flash of wing

Barefoot, I stand here alone
lost in fresh cut grass looking
through long-ago window

I ask you now Mom, under this nighttime sky, wherever you are, (heaven, interstellar, I have no idea) how long do I have to tolerate anxiety tugging me? Live inside bewilderment in this fight of life?