From the heads of pins
Angel tears fall thimbles’ full
Mourning peace and love
© Chagall 2014
Caught between two endings
I emerge into light
once more
© Chagall 2014
Night lightning strikes twice
Twin souls birthed fragrant with dawn
Ache to breach the edge
© Chagall 2014
Just this very moment
the world’s exhausted
its share of meaningful words
I am desperately trying
to salvage the remaining
few that trickle from the
© Chagall 2014
And in the end
she said you’re my favorite people
You kept things bright when lights were low
you were always there to let me know
Those hard times shared by all
are not so hard at all
O’ what a life!
I remember dancing with you all
a slow dance, a quick step
Strange I never heard
the music change
O’ what a life
isn’t it a crazy life
When everything you know
is still here when you go
© Chagall 2014
I pick ground tubers
orange, white, deep purple,
while my students practice
yoga ’bout the hills
around us
In morning sun and overnight dew
I laugh then cry through the splendor
Prisms of light diffract there
on my lashes beaded rainbows
I close my eyes slowly till I am consumed
by indigo, orange,
white, deep purple
© Chagall 2014
An old man struggling
with a large heavy mirror
obviously dear
Preserves all of the light
the reflected scape
that’s passing there before him
To the observer the world
advances as the world
advances towards
the advancing world
The careful eye
caught in the seam
between real and glass
and polished silver
Notes that the man
does not reflect
himself
© Chagall 2014
Dim lanterns barely visible
perhaps there’s no light at all
but my own vision and colors
behind closed eyes
Damp moss smell, the sound of waves
breezes just cooler than body
trace their way through air to seek a lash or a face
exotic salt and floral scents from very far away
I kneel in moist and cushioned sand that holds at first
then gives, unable to brace my fall with my hands
or my body prone I fall amid fine spray
of quartz and feldspar smothered until I collapse
through the top of a cool grotto and alight
ever so gentle to final rest
Dim lanterns
barely breathing
© Chagall 2014
In time we find
though never lost
in trimmed gardens
The search alone
we sidle walls
flash furtive glance
In green maze
morning haze drops
The same each time
blurred roundabout
swirl dizzy spires
Endless breathlessness
tiring quicker
than yesternight
Out of rush of flame
comes desire
Sparkling cold
dense stars are lit
the air so thick
Like water we
drown
© Chagall 2014
Out on the night horizon
silhouettes dance across water
purple on black, must be a sandbar
or maybe just many Christs
© Chagall 2014