from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
The moon wanes,
as he begins
to speak:
so many words
go unspoken.
He chokes on air.
(May 25, 2019)
Abundance (fullness)
Category: aging
Development (gradual progress)
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
I’m here where I belong,
sitting beneath this tree
I planted long ago.
(May 24, 2019)
Revolution (molting)
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
As I age, I must
change: life’s last third
will fall away like snow
hanging on a dead branch.
(May 14, 2019)
Pushing Upward
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
I write as I have
for years—I have,
through time, come
to understand:
I write to write,
doubting praise, I write
in silence to silence.
(May 14, 2019)
One’s End’s Ambiguous
The labyrinth
bends into itself:
one thought feeds
bits of fear to the next;
until, teeth crack
on broken bone,
and it ends
without a beginning
to begin again.
One’s end’s ambiguous
as one’s beginning.
Indecisive and vague,
the end’s no different
than any contingent.
The end ends
with a flailing
of the mind
through a stark
unawareness
of where we are,
where we have been,
and without a why
to justify
the confusion
of the scattered pages
across the floor,
and the ash in the air.
(May 12, 2019)
Drowning
Hubris hangs thick
like funerary flowers,
redolent in disregard.
Like burnt yarrow stalks,
the dead know us
for what we are:
inches from the earth,
we gnaw on fear,
only to drown in dust.
(May 1, 2019)
Motion
one stands always at a beginning
a new door opens to a passage
which leads to another door
which opens wherever you are
there are no keys no locks no doors
only you standing within time
in motion without moving
yourself a passage a sluice
through which apparitions slip
taking on your form like robes
then quickly cast away replaced
by yet another without end
each moment embraces death with a kiss
each moment finds your self reborn
(April 16, 2019)
