Saturday, October 25, 2014

A few grains of salt


A few grains of salt, a dash of memory;
here are my bones, here what I meant to be;
flowered so well, as rivers would stones;
grave is my halt, and listen without;
to laughter, the cry left of me.



Friday, October 24, 2014

Canvas 456



Canvas 456

October 24, 2014




Chance meetings


If he seems a little ugly, with his features out of place,
yet heed the pity in his face for the like of you,
blessed with beauty as you are, and waste
that soon may be the blight of you,
when by your greed and haste,
you are justly framed
by every trace
of light on
you.



Thursday, October 23, 2014

Canvas 455



Canvas 455

October 23, 2014




Moorings


Fragments, yet whole; sea-lights,
burning, now bright, now obscured by the mist;
worlds, turning, youthful, yet old; thus sent,
here-tossed, we see each face
in our own; now whose,
then, is this?



Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Canvas 454



Canvas 454

October 22, 2014




Night-wise


From a quiet wet-black street, cast by a city lamp,
a reflection, as if the cause of clouds,
would pause, and speak,
of heaven.



Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Here is a door


Here is a door. Or, rather, four letters. A word.
The word opens. Light enters. A cloud. A storm. A bird.

The bird bears a message. Or, rather, the message bears her.
Four letters, four doors, four storms, four birds.

Forever. And on. Infinite doors. Letters.
Clouds. Storms. Messages. Birds.

No hands. No knobs. No frames. No walls.
Only doors. Infinite words.

Light enters. Where was it before?
No one has mentioned the dark.

No night. No veil. No blinds.
Once were. Then are.

No time. See how they fly.
Dark enters. Light. Light, as a word.



Monday, October 20, 2014

Canvas 453



Canvas 453

October 20, 2014




Upon a stream


Whence this scene, a blessing of your mind,
yet lived in, acted upon, admired, by other minds?

Whence this leaf, upon a stream,
soon departed, which remains?

And before you say, “old-fashioned,”
whither, save in kind, will ever, be the same.



Sunday, October 19, 2014

Canvas 452



Canvas 452

October 19, 2014




The words you utter


How the words you utter, utter you.

How they grow, then ripen, on the vine.

How they color, and fall, when it’s time.

How bright, the birds, come to dine.

How blue, how clear, the sky.

How flight, is true, by design.

How love, makes you, from your mind.




Saturday, October 18, 2014

Canvas 451



Canvas 451

October 18, 2014




Canvas 450



Canvas 450

October 18, 2014




The ghost of a chance


In the old family album, comes that turn in the dance,
where you, are the ghost, of a chance. By her wings, in his glance,
just as we find them — do you see what you couldn’t,
now that they can’t?



Thursday, October 16, 2014

The perfect place


The perfect place, a cedar jewel box
for a grave; a thousand ways forgotten, save
the one that stays; a leaf that speaks for autumn;
sinks deep, the pin, the blood,
to spring.