nothing left

a kiss was placed on blushing cheek

breath came shallow and quick

time stopped as arms embraced

tears became laughter and back again

until there was nothing left

but the dream

2/25/2011

flights of fantasy

alone in the forest

the sound of one hand clapping

a peal of thunder lost amid the crash of trees falling

anonymous in the onslaught of time.

voices crying to be heard are drowned out

by the thunder of the hooves of the panicked herd.

yet i heard the sound

alone in the woods

the sound of one hand clapping

keeping time with the rhythm,

the beating of the wings

the flights of fantasy

man and mind, nature and time. 

2/4/1991

the edge of time

i stood at the edge of time and wondered;

if i ever crossed over, when would i return?

reflecting back i saw a million images

along a line unbroken,

a million points of light, each alone

yet somehow still connected.

each awaited my next move-

would i break the chain?

resolutely i crossed over, embracing my future.

it seemed significant then

but, after all, i had done it a million times before.

6/23/1990 

hushed whispers

when they thought we were asleep

the elders went to the place of hushed whispers

to tell their stories and sing their songs.

but we weren't asleep

and we would carefully sneak to just within earshot

and we would listen and memorize the words the elders spoke

so that when we became old

we could share the same stories and songs.

of course when we became the elders

our stories and songs were different because the world had changed,

but we repeated them in the place of hushed whispers

as the young ones listened intently.

12/18/2021 

another day

the waves of sleep wash over me and i drift away

to run aground on the gentle shores

of a distant land and another day.

there i will find my memories,

in the land where i found you,

on the sand by the sea with the wind and the surf,

in a place known to only the few.

i left my songs and my poems there

by the shore of that gentle sea,

that you may one day find them

with your memories of me.

    10/25/1990

 

dust

quietly alone

i brushed away my dreams

and sent them, like spores, drifting across the meadow

where they found you

and became real again.

6/4/1991

helpless memories

my memories waited for you.
they were young and hungry,

helpless and alone,

like fishermen calling out in forgotten voices

lost in the tossing sea.

i feel their resignation,

their passion for a better fate.

i taste the salt of the sea,

or maybe a tear, leaving with unspoken regret.

eventually the memories will grow old.

they will fade in the calm waters

as the winds leave to stir other seas.

still, they will wait.

6/20/2021

the full moon dance

 

the moon was full, so we danced

until our feet no longer hurt.

we danced until we fell, exhausted,

into each other's arms.

the wind was gentle that night.

gentle like a poet's song.

gentle like the memory of your hand

resting softly on mine.

the sun returned, hesitant yet insistent,

like a child waking from a dream.

 

11/18/2017

distant dreams

 

and i would dream distant dreams

of things that could not be,

knowing full well they would all come true

if you dreamed them too with me.

our laughter would echo and thunder

through valleys thick with pines,

over mountains, meadows and oceans,

across the sea of time.

and we would see as children then

and travel to distant lands

until the morning catches us

waking in the sand.

6/2/1991

more

 

eight o’clock blankets

on six-thirty floors,

your eyes open wide sighing

more, more, more.

sighing more.

 

your nightgown is sleeping

alone on the chair

and laughing you ask me

how did it get there?  sighing

more, more, more.

sighing more.

 

you want me for breakfast,

i want you for lunch,

time is in motion

each moment at once

sighing more, more, more.

sighing more.

more.

more.

 

sighing more.

 

        7/23/12

the kiss

 

a kiss brushed against innocence like a present

neatly wrapped for a Christmas morning.

the children, full of anticipation, are unable to sleep

while their parents downstairs worry about the bills.

there are so many bills.

 

perhaps time has imagination after all,

or at least energy.

its incessant plodding and the clocks always ticking, ticking,

drowning out the sound of your heart

but not the words you whisper.

such sweet words.

 

time fails when we are together.

we slip between it like waves through the rocks.

another kiss then until tomorrow,

when it awakens like an angry sky,

uncertain witness to our night.

 

3/8/12

in the emptiness

 

my bed, when you are away,

is empty and cold.

your scent fades from the pillow

like the last hint of a mountain echo.

i draw the blankets tight around me

and dream of your soft skin;

the love in your eyes.

 

i know you are asleep

dreaming your own dreams,

your hair a dark storm,

your breath measured and deep.

you reach out for me in the emptiness

and i am there.

 

                11/19/11

without metaphor

they say a poem without metaphor

is really just a personal anecdote,

empty, like a boat run aground

on an unseen sandbar,

its crew gone, seeking other fortune.

 

you and i walk down to the marina

and find a bench where we sit and watch

as other boats are captained in and out

of the harbor.  Their crews cast

dismissive glances at the hapless boat.

i wonder though if they aren’t secretly glad

not to be sharing that fate.

 

seagulls circle above like paparazzi,

annoying, intrusive and unwilling

(perhaps unable) to leave.  Eventually

the sun sets and the sky explodes,

a shower of gold and red.

 

and our eyes, then our lips meet,

the poem complete.

 

12/13/11