Feb 17

Everything At 5 A.M. comes 
Boldly, drifting in
Waves through February snow.

You make a daily imprint onto the imagination of this servant,
alone. I was in mourning when I awoke
Suddenly, and everywhere I turned,
My heart was there, it had fetid eyes
That burned my throat as I breathed
In through the veins in my eye-skin,
and I knew I was no longer dead.
I emerged in my own Spring, but our
Earth was covered in snow.
We would not travel together, so
I stumbled into my Southern mind,
Blind and hurt, fumbling. Fools
Fool themselves about the precipitation.

To your goddess house sideways,
I look through the ice field.
To your slumbering belle temple,
I look through the travellers
Scattered in fog, under the weather.

This morning I awake to last three days,
Wooden like the cross across
My atheist salvation.

This fog has persisted, it lays upon
Frozen hills but only to my eyes.
My cold eyes, black and brown, blind
during the fog, see a round
Table and seeing no error, stand upon
Your collected and connected information.
Your beauty is winter grass,
It feeds the buffalo.
And your voice a melody that
Spills upon the early eyes, in
Another room inside my brain again
The tired travellers  
awake, but in memory still sleeping
I dream to them: I dream of you:
Floral print on black cotton, a rounded collar of soft satin, over an
Off white sheerness, earth brown cardigan
With exposed stitching.

I find gazing for your patience
Leaves me as leaves fall: in feeling.
Too early this Spring, they die being
a part of a misplaced season.

My Love Is A Misplaced Season

Winter thinks it's Spring:
I was Winter-In-The-Trees.

Lost in beautiful love, remnant
Of yesterday, tenant of the afternoon
Before, my mind bitten by beauty.
You're so beautiful, everything raves
From my pen, it bristles at fences,
Bristles and brushes on canvas as
the earth raves, its grass become flowers:
My everything world these days. Oh. My
Burning eyes, through my vision-eye
looks at you, and what beauty this world has made, and what vision
The Mountain gave to me,
looking at you sideways,
alone.

The Mountain: driving east 30 years ago
I was elevated in a flash of light
Everything connected in color and
I was retuned to Earth
Given an artist's mind
And purpose in life

Remember the moments when
You fall in love, those will be the days
That sustain the soul at its ending. 


I can finish with a thought
of your eyes, when the curves
of your body overtake the better
Part of my mind-in the curves, 
in the turns, I'm lost,
lost upon the edge of your mouth,
Your lips silent in memory,
your voice moves across me,
Spring birds in stereo, trapped in
This winter snow, think
through my ears, and then I'm distracted
distracted by your hand magic,
then its another goodbye. And I, I am
      a turn,    then   I     am
sideways,     then.  I.    Am. I am
a turn,          then  in    the   hall   I  was
            alone
          alone.      Alone
and walking somewhere
alone
in thoughts I go to my
returning despair,
      is it within that only
feels the movement in the air?
I fall apart, my misplaced Spring
Not knowing it's Fall,

The gesture from somewhere,
The tears that always know, that know
I always fall in love with someplace
I can't go, with someone I'll chase
Away with some insane idea
Poorly conveyed, a dried flower
That hopes to be forgotten
And tossed away, something
Beautiful and fleeting, a fly on
A window screen.

then the better part of me that

understands

accepting kindness as enough

And leaving
to unknowns or concern or care,
My heart falls again
Just at the thought of your name,
What is the name of that love,
The one unwelcome to not just you but
the better part of my head,
The name that takes ahold of me,
In my bones I swear all
is lost again, a smile,
because there was
a smile
               upon my retreat.
                                                All it was
Was a smile.
                         Am I so lonely?

. ..curve around your stars exploding
Nothing faded away
Your leaving turns into my gaze,
An unwanted and inappropriate
Thing, but the beast takes my eyes and
descending in knit, into your
Black boots, and upon your left foot,
Slightly it turned inward.
They follow the curves of your legs,
To the hem of your pink skirt,
They jump your breast to your
Shoulders because I fear
What you do to my heart and land at
The one strand of hair in front
Of your ear, everything to reach out
For, everything to lay sideways, everything
That tells me your beautiful
And screams at my dying eyes, look
And know your
alone...

Presidents Day

Recently on 2nd avenue, walking north, 
I said a quick goodbye and
You said
a quicker likewise
though it seemed surprised
and thought I, by leaving,
I was meeting you where you lie

and then,
and we,
     and we...
walked on
             as we are supposed to 

                             .....  and a half
block south, I realized for two
                      hours I didn't feel
                                            alone.

and now
           every hour
                 those hours
                    are sinking in.
       Sinking in.
            Sinking in the waves.