weird.
i can see the lace in the curtains
in condos and co-ops on streets across town
but the fog and the river
i find myself swimming
through and against and around
just eludes me
a picture is eventually allowed
i draw a cloud of arms
just holding, directing and
shouting out loud but
not without charms
and certainly not proud
with bars and with salt
but no cages or fault
what the sky lacks in size
it makes up in disguise
imposing long lines
and the limits of time
part tall, part crossed, heart wide,
all found after low tide
as the clouded mind is lost in the weeds
the coverage recedes
and the true shore’s revealed
industry! industry!
talk about pull!
talk about all of the landmines to fill!
into adventure
a moral code is slipped
its forehead kissed
and sent away for life
and every day forever
remembered just like this:
lost,
but tethered to a trail
above a river, a marvel
in love, soft focus,
a cunning guide
for paths of light
hugged by a far off pull
below in patterns, an ambling
of frost, seven ducks
in narrowed eyes
consider night
led by a close caring
currently the new year rolls in
but had you gotten up high enough
weeks ago
you would have looked east, and
felt it, if not seen it
this cyclic existence is something to
break from,
but facing the wave
so many hear, “stay”
i give you what you dream
for a long time
the eggshell sky fights
the bell.
and some wet weather rolled through
as i stare at slick pavement
and umbrellas fat
me, i don’t see much
i’m focused on the feeling
i close my eyes
and wander the cooler airs
All borders and lines and walls. Graffiti or sledgehammer? That is the question.
Sunshine and Wind 