i care no more for your enthralling song
your recitals i refuse to attend
those once-beloved lyrics now all but gone
with that performance, i cannot pretend
i am left more cautious since i have heard
your siren sound tempting my ships to harm
how you caroled us with your cloying words
and burned us with the bitters of your charm
now you've flown to feed upon new goodness
to trill your story for another soul
with fresh audience, no need to confess
to...
Friday, October 28, 2016
Saturday, October 22, 2016
three leaves
these last days of autumn
shimmer down to something
close to the moment before
sleep, when the world outside
contracts into darkness and
the ether of dreams comes
drifting
out a dining room window
of our simple maine farmhouse
a red maple stands with half his leaves
still blazing, still clinging
to branch, while two thousand miles
away they eulogize my uncle
who was...
Sunday, October 16, 2016
blur
we were married in a sage masonic
meetinghouse during our descent,
on the stage of that stoic hall, as
part of a late september day dressed
with mist and autumn removals
it was a fine place, yet what is a
place but a context into which
we rain our droplets of time
that we manage to
stir into something like a life
my brother took pictures...
Tuesday, October 4, 2016
cicada bottle summer
the kids just last week presented to me a
trim, stunted bottle unearthed by the rooting snouts of the
piglets in our garden bed out back
where the soil is still a rich virgin black.
i placed the vial on the sill of our kitchen window
above the sink and it still held the earth in it;
so besodded that the light outside labored against
an obscure passage through its thick...
