BondFires

Can we sustain that delicate

flame, those inward orchards

of apples, peaches and pears,

fragrant dark soil beneath

white wispy clouds, cherry-lipped 

children giggling unbridled glee, 

oldsters recalling wild first loves,

nebulous whispers 

of time’s mystery, 

diaphanous Life’s ongoing 

mischiefs that shimmer 

and shudder right now 

everywhere?

   The Dance

She sits on the couch in stillness,

Tiny as a grain of rice

Uncooked

Cartwheeling across

Blue skies of morning,

Shouting her joy

Without words

To all in beds fast asleep

Where waterfalls plunge

Onto plump pillows

Eroding granite and schist,

Refreshing wilted ferns

And dry trilliums,

Dancing like feathers 

That shimmer

In dreamtime.  

Gazing with Gaza

           

Tiny, we are all so tiny in the face of injustice 

of bombardment of human people half a world away. People rubbled by our money mangled 

by our fucking country our numbing blindness 

our politicians unmoored from morals. Tiny brown children play hopscotch in dust, so full of life 

and breath, so tiny underneath skies of thunder bursting death. We are all so tiny so tiny dear Lord tell us how to be what to do.

 BEFORE STARDOM, BEFORE THE COLLAPSE

Lana dear Lana, as yet undiscovered,
Wrapped like a doll from Dresden
In a form-fitting sweater
Of Mongolian Cashmere
You perch like a blue-breasted bird
On your Schwab’s crimson stool
With a gangly soda jerk,
Tall Cherry Coke and forest
Of French fries submerged in grease
Adoringly before  you. 

pleasures

Rain’s remnants puddle in the yard, last night’s happy surprise. Left hand travels across smooth paper of this journal, gift from dear friend. Dark ink flows, blossoming each letter’s arc and reach onto the patient page. Taste of coffee, toasty rich on the tongue. Swishing dishwasher sounds from my kitchen soothe from twenty feet away. Toes wiggle on hassock, softened by well-worn pillow. Memory of popcorn’s fragrance, its tasty crunch last night. Perhaps I’ll reach for this tempting coffee, toplit by warm lamp-glow. Sips satisfy then cup returns to metal table, creating still-life tableau with stone and lamp. Stone found on a hike years’ ago, it’s curve a joy to behold. My right hand caressing stable arm of plump favorite chair. I’m eased into pleasure quiescent, caressed by spacious silence, amply held by my easy chair.