from “Renditions of Change,” from a work in progress
The storm breaks
with the new dawn.
(March 29, 2019)
-
-
Obstruction
by
from “Renditions of Change,” work in progress
On this road
he is a boulder
he cannot remove.
He turns, then returns
with others.
He absorbs himself
until he vanishes
to himself.
(March 27, 2019)
-
Opposition
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
He shuffle steps his dance
to the left; she circle slips
through their spaces
around her. They move
against the other, dancing
with one dance.
(March 27, 2019)
-
The Family (the clan)
by
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
If what he says is said
within the bounds
of proper order–
If what he said is heard
like fire flickering the wind
toward the horizon–
If what was heard was
what he said, each circle
replicating the last–
then the world becomes home.
(March 25, 2019)
-
Darkening of the Light
by
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
At night a light
exposes one, opens
like a wound to bleed
out into the dark.
I want to stay
hidden within
my secrets, to hold
my desires close
like a small flame.
It’s safe there, stitched
tight between muscle
and bone, waiting
to enkindle a better day.
(March 23, 2019)
-
Progress
by
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
Daylight expands
over the dark
earth. I, too,
must find a way
home, to be happy
with my friends.
(March 23, 2019)
-
The Power of the Great
by
from “Renditions of Change,” work in progress
He could force the moment,
sweep his way clear
without consequence–
He could act,
high-handed,
dismissive–
He could succumb
to his appetites,
devouring all —
and yet, he doesn’t.
(March 21, 2019)
-
Retreat
by
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
I wait more often
than react– more often
a squall line doesn’t form
but disperses in the hills.
I know you will
go, and I’ll remain.
(March 21, 2019)
-
Nearby
Rose petals on a ground Like flowers in a slow conversation’s
eddy, he floats through his circular day.
Nothing’s amiss. Almost, as memory,
the pattern persists; almost as if he
whispers to someone who listens nearby.
Each flower’s petals fall, by troubled turns,
until the air is not enough to hold
the incoherent world; and, like glass,
it shatters into the composting earth,
oblivious to its own slow demise.
The flower unfolds into its silence;
the swift flutter of bird song in the trees;
the rough caress of dry leaf on dry leaf;
the winter wind’s incessant pulse and pause;
are nothing to his flower’s petal’s fall.
(March 20, 2019)
-
Influence (wooing)
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)
subtext 