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Saturday, March 28, 2020

Saturday Afternoon

Clouds dancing
across this vast
ballroom of blue
light.

Thursday, March 26, 2020

at the base of this mountain
all the way down
a gate of light glistens
gardens of sound.

Wednesday, March 25, 2020

Predicament’s Path, Perhaps

is our footing
solid, we ask
the emptiness
considering next
steps or not, onto ground
as yet untrod, here
tentative un-
knowing over
rare space un-
seen invasions, we
are so vulnerable
remembering
to breathe, to turn
off tv news often
hoping green
in this distance
a meadow
these purple
wildflowers, trill
of birdsong overhead,
scampering children,
perhaps that kayak carried
solo towards
a round lake
are not only
a solid collage 
receding, not only
our mirage again perhaps
dissolving..
can you hear within
this eerie quiet
twigs crackling underfoot
as each small step is
boldly taken, smell the scent
of mosses greenly brimming,
feel Springtime’s hum perhaps
of twin hearts surely beating?


Predicament

is our footing
solid, we ask
the emptiness
considering next
steps, here
tentative un-
knowing over
rare space un-
seen invaders, we 
are so vulnerable
trying to remember
to breathe, to turn
off tv news often
hoping green
in this distance
meadow
these purple
wildflowers, trill
of birdsong, scampering
children, perhaps
that kayak carried
solo towards
a round lake
are not only
a solid collage
receding, 
not only 
our collective
lonely mirage....

Monday, March 23, 2020

On the eighth day,
Somewhere between 

Their day of rest
And your savoring 

A dream of cleavage

Of pursed lips
Blowing mischievously

While sitting before 
Coffee in darkness
Continuing that rest,

The whole thing
In all its riven 
Complexity,

Its crevasses
Its clefts,

Was simply 
Forgiven

Sunday, March 22, 2020

On the eighth day,
Somewhere between 
A dream of cleavage
And sitting before 
Coffee in darkness,
The whole thing
In all its riven 
Complexity
Was simply 
Forgiven

Friday, March 13, 2020

BREAKFAST UPSTART

For just a moment,

She saw
Herself

As an infinite
Amalgam of stardust,

Suffering, enthusiasm,
Solace and lust....

Then, donning battle
Scarred bifocals, returned
To perusing

The back
Of a half-empty box

Of Captain Crunch
Bathed in amber
Light pouring like honey

Onto her cereal bowl
From a hive of bees

Buzzing promiscuously
Around
A nearby star.