Monday, December 12, 2016

In the deserted hospital lobby


A dad asleep with a tv in his lap
His boys leaning in on him
from both sides, watching.

Wednesday, May 25, 2016

The bloom is off the branches






As life explodes from every corner of our consciousness,

A moment, please,

For the petals of blossoms 
Dropping from the trees.

I myself might not have noticed

Were it not for the antique truck on someone's lawn 

Which I drive by every day -- twice
-- undertaking that part of life you might call routine 

Never noticed it's been parked
under an apple tree this whole time

Struck anew by the sight of it
dusted perfectly with the petals 
of those sweet and fleeting blossoms.

What does it take to cut through 
the trance of living
To feel the life force moving 
Always moving

Today it is a delivery truck from the 1920s

With news for the world

Sitting still in the awesome light of the morning 

A storied and stately bier 
Serenely bearing its diaphanous cargo,
mottled pink/white,
An exquisite garment
without a body
to cover



Thursday, May 19, 2016

Long May day's run



Young man
Lying in your mother's arms
You've squeezed two days of living out of this one 
And I've been lucky enough to bear witness to it

The light that took forever to die 
made you feel like you could live
really live 
Forever 
And when you hit your limit 
and the ugliness emerged, an octave higher,
you fought stillness like a delusional sea captain 
like a mean drunk Don Knotts

But eventually you met it, horizontally,
other half of half eaten burg in hand 

And I explained to you 
'Son, you know when the day is coming to an end...'
'It comes back again?' You asked.

'Well,' I said, 'every day is a brand new day, every day we get a new day,
But the day before
Has gone away
For good 
And can never come back

'And so, 
when we are saying goodbye to the day that is ending, but we haven't yet seen
the new day
We can feel sad,
And that is an ok feeling, it's ok to feel that way,'

And before I can tell you it's a gift from God, the whole thing, the full day, the sadness of the end and the innocence and glory of the new day to come, you say,

'All wight, all wight, I'm tiooowd.'

In your mother's arms you experience the joy of goodbye to the day you lived all the way,
Not a moment gone to waste.