from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
Can one be wary,
and still be
unconscious?
Words seduce me—
their pulse and purr,
without my awareness.
I know nothing
more than nothing;
this I know.
Someone
somewhere
whispers to me.
(March 12, 2019)
-
The Clinging, Fire
by
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
He holds to the shape
of his world, safe
as a cow’s contentment.
He darkens the light
he reads by, then forms
opinions like fire
softly licking the air
into smoke. As each
day becomes another,
he accepts the work
before him, unconcerned
of what comes after.
(March 12, 2019)
-
around a ring, not in a ring
not fairies
but fire
voices dance
dispelling fear
motion as motion
blur the air
not here yet
everywhere
(March 12, 2019)
-
Preponderance of the Great
by
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
I worry too much,
or not enough,
yet do nothing.
Here at home
cats curl
in our laps;
when friends visit,
the table’s full,
laughter and wine
flow unabated.
Far away
along the edges,
below the ice,
cracks appear;
and, the ground shifts
beneath us.
(March 7, 2019)
-
The Corners of the Mouth (providing nourishment)
by
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
I return again
and again to
gain small bits
of what she offers.
Often drunk
at her table,
I feed on
her infinite root.
Even as I am
changed, Poetry
absorbs the earth
and all upon it.
What part I am,
what part I have
become, rises
into her dance.
(March 6, 2019)
-
Innocence (the unexpected)
Oblivious, he scurries about
without guilt. A paper mask’s
enough to escort him through
this play. By default, self-deceit’s
a natural innocence.
(March 4, 2019)
-
Return (The Turning Point)
from “Renditions of Change” a work in progress
As any day, the cicada
sheds its skeleton
then sings once more
into the summer heat.
Each moment returns
to extract hope
from the smallest egg.
I find myself,
yet again,
at a beginning.
(March 1, 2019)
-
Dawn’s Light
by
abstract backdrop of twisting smoke Slowly stirring
the cold ash,
he sifted her words
from a memory
which had drifted
softly into air,
like smoke.
Vaguely,
she danced
away in silence.
His words slurred
into darkness:
his story was
not her story.
(February 28, 2019)
-
Examination
by
E
“The unexamined life is not worth living”–Socrates
What’s wrong with being
happy? Oblivious,
stumbling along, content
with the morning sun
parsing the petals
of the rose’s first bud?
Under the instant and
insistent barrage
of doubt, the examined
life is not necessarily
worth living. Living
is worth living. Implicit,
joy radiates, each moment
transcendent, without
need to justify within
mocking parenthesis.
(February 26, 2019)
-
Splitting Apart
by
from “Renditions of Change” a work in progressS
I sat still in the dark
on the bank of the river.
The river was rising, so I moved
to higher ground. I could not
stop the river, nor hasten
the oncoming day. Sometimes
to do nothing is resistance.
(February 26, 2019)
-
Morning Fog
by
Dim light crept like rust
across the leaf’s edge water
tensed into a fall
(February 22, 2019)
-
Grace
from “Renditions of Change” a work in progress
To pitch lit matches
at gasoline is not the way
to shine a light
on small irritants.
Yet, I have my tinderbox
ready to strike,
my clothes are soaked to skin,
waiting to burn.
(February 21,2019)
subtext 