Unfinished—

Time, Is a Slow-Moving Creature—

But He is Determined—

He has already Won the Race—

Without any Effort at all—

And Knows it—

We Run along-side—we Hide—

Trying not to Fall Behind—

We Scheme, we Devise—

We already Know we've Lost—

And our Aging Faces Show It.

To/For/About Emily Dickinson

 ....While Sitting on the Porch across the street,

   at 257 Main. 1st visit to Amherst. August, 2023

A Morning—I've Refined—

Coffee—and Possibility—

Yours and Mine Combined—

Divinest Company—

Exponential Gains—

Musings all too Similar—

Transpondence not Contained

In anything Familiar—

Feelings—You are Here—

Admiring these Homes—

Impaled!—the Inner Ear—

Electrifies the Lobes—

Eyes too Wide to Maul—

Focus, or Affix—

A Thought to any Wall—

But Fly—On Light Emit—

Your Lamp—Faint Rays—Adorn—

On top your Tiny Desk—

Where Galaxies Were Born—

And Given Place to Rest—

Through All the Modern Chatter—

A Hybrid Symphony—

Notes too Much for Paper—

Ringing Out Eternally.

The Well (or, The Meaning of Life)

The Deepest Well

Has the Purest Water—

Far too Deep to Draw—

With a Single Bucket

We can only Hope

To Maintain the Strength to Grip

And as We Look

Up to the Sky

For Strength we rightly Need

We Pray our Bucket

Does not Break

And that our Hands not Slip

The Sweetest Voice 

I've Ever Heard—

Makes Novels from

A Single Word—

And In the Pauses

In-Between—

Lie Silences—

Too Long for Me.

Vous Et Nul Autre

 Vous Et Nul Autre

       —Two—

An Angel was Called

  Back up to Heaven—

Then Flown Back Down

  For a Reason—

            ~

Her Soul-Mate still

  Had yet to Find

His Angel, Here

  To Ease his Mind—

            ~

And Now They Walk

  An Immortal Shore—

Their Eyes to Skies

  Beyond Death's Door—

            ~

Their Future, Now

  Looks Calm, & Loved

By All the Angels

  Still Up, Above—

            ~

And the Simple Thing

  Shall Never Go—

For as One, They Bring

  Light, into Shadow—

            ~

New Worlds Discovered!—

  Two Hearts as One!—

They Now, Together

  Pure Legend Become!—

            ~

And Their Beautiful Bond

  Will Never Grow Old—

Their Perennial Song

  Passed down and Told

            ~

By All who Knew

  And who Wish to Know

About These Two—

  The Sun, & The Shadow.

Vous Et Nul Autre

 Vous Et Nul Autre

       —Three—

A Heart in Chains

Is the Greatest Pain

That Any Living Thing can Feel

            ~

And once it's Felt

There is Nothing else

That matters or is even Real—

            ~

For All Other Things

Fade Quickly Away

From the Attention of the Mind

            ~

And Now We See—

Like the very First Time—

Ahead, instead of Behind—

            ~

For Before these Walls

There were no Chambers

Locked, or even Closed—

            ~

And Now the Sky

Falls in Through Light

Passing Through Their Windows—

            ~

It Wakes Our Soul

To a Morning, New—

To Body, and to Mind—

            ~

And Now the Day

Is Tortured by

A Night, that would Define

            ~

The Meaning of 

All We Know

Or Thought we ever Knew—

            ~

The Beginning of,

Or Ending of

The World—

for It,   is You.

The New Bedford Harbor

 

Seagulls and their Ancient Song—
Waves too Old to Remember—

Ships at Rest—Immortal Sway—

As Cobblestones Surrender.

The Oldest Structures now Belong

To History—and their Fate—

As Architecture of the Past

Necessitates—

And in the Night—an Evening Shimmers

Upon the Whaler's Harbor—

Distance still Defining Measure

One Century, from Another—

A Ship Sails In—with its Prize—

The City Builds Applause—

A Day Embossed—Onto Time—

Subject, to Harbor's Cause

The Mansion

 

What will come of these Precious Hours?—

And Thoughts too Fast to Stop?—

The afternoon Slips Back—and Away—

Toward the ringing of the Tower Clock—

The Moments much too Large to Handle

With a Simple, single Line—

But could a Verse, attempt Untangle

The Importance of this Time?—

It's Balled up in a Rap of Knots—

Emotions—Out of Line—

What could Decipher Destined Endeavour

And Distill it into Rhyme?—

What sort of Angel need Descend

Upon this Heart Inspired?—

So that a Mind can Comprehend

Exactly what it Admires?—

—Her Ghost—is Here—in these Shadows

Slanting across the Lawn—

But will this Dream last past the Hours

Of Tomorrow's Sober Dawn?—

—A Smile—Erupts—a Chill—Descends—

Down this crouching Spine—

Words Spill out—the Top is Gone

From this Head of mine.*

*From this Disk of Time.

 An Angel & a Hero take a Walk on a Beach

                             (Vous Et Nul Autre)

I waited so long,

  I forgot what for—

My Heartbeat slowed by the Weight of Time—

Then one Summer Day,

  An Angel passed—

She stopped & turned Her Heart to Mine—

Empathetic and Wise,

  She Held my Soul

In Her delicate, Careful Hands—

And now my Heart,

  Beats as it should—

Perhaps the Encounter was Planned...

For I had Wandered,

  Far off the Course—

Not even wondering Why!—

And Now, it seems,

  I was not Lost—

Only Called, to an Angel's Side—

For what She Wanted,

  I had Plenty—

A Resource long Forgotten—

And Our Exchange,

  Became The Gain:

Our Beach, now had its Ocean.