Archive for July, 2020

Terse (But Not Really Free) Verse

I used to have brain cells galore
…no more.

Chagall 2020

ABAB…uh…who knows!

I am precisely like a halo,
a tight haze about you, more
than any hand is
to glove

My love

Any sock is
to foot

My cute

Almost in rhymes
is like a leaner
in horseshoes

Spiraling metal omega-shaped shoes,
flung from the hand

…ping against posts stuck in sand

Chagall 2020

Do not mistake my sorrow over your unhappiness as love

Love would provoke me to engage and care, while
unhappiness beget by unhappiness stirs me more
to look the other way, to leave, to seek joy so great
that once in heart it overcomes any doubt about leaving

Having left now, I am not so certain

There must be more than a shared sadness
over a plight mistaken as inevitable

Find your garden and dwell there
with a handful of persons you love,
pass the days, savor each hour,
every breath – exhale always
with the next inhale
in mind

Chagall 2020


To think
more than
to write

Chagall 2020

Endless Hour

I love the sound of propeller planes overhead,
the simple promise of flight in that sawtooth stutter,
from behind clouds, pledges blue sky – nothing but!
for the rest of the yellow afternoon

you and I are

we dive from a wing onto freshly baked air,
it will hold us as far as we’ll go,
stretched out wide, we glide away,
aloft, astride shimmers of light

like haze from below
the friendly wind rises
to carry us home despite
not knowing the way
we relinquish ourself

there – see it…
the lamp in your window!

we fly so low
I can see the lovers so
plainly below
as evening enters by porchlight
…and I wave

Chagall 2020

Start Today

Use the ennui of prolonged aspiration
as the impetus to finally break through

think plainly,
speak plainly,
write plainly,
play plainly

Chagall 2020

The Jaunt

daylight environment foot path forest

Watch yourself – curve ahead,
each step random unplanned,
plenty of mud to step in
yet, you bet

A short skip over the gap
and we’re on our way,
careful – it’s a steep hill down

We kick up dirt and gravel

On level ground, grass worn thin,
thick privet all around, a simple maze
meant to divert, not baffle

Let us proceed

A simple right-left
and we’re through

Chagall 2020
Photo by Andru00e9 Cook on

Once Was July

butterflies upon stalks of rye grass,
vibrant, wag their wings

impatiens children tap their petals

a slow flutter
(with little risk
of sudden snow flurry)

deep in the heart of summer
amid merry smells, sights

sad sounds

a calliope razed to the ground here,
but its lilt is always on lips, melodious whistles,
bounce low, ride high, carousel horses
go giddy up and around

Chagall 2020

A Lonely

she said
I need a heavy rain right now

a deluge now and then
does the trick

make a large boat,
make it right

this time take
one of everything

Chagall 2020

Gravity 8

I like it when the thicket and the trees grow over,
my neighbors hidden from view as I from them

It’s cozy in my private garden,
greener somehow, more lush

Above me my patch of sky
as sure as that below is ground

I easily conceive of heaven here
alone behind these secluding privets

A very specific timelessness

Blessed is the rare glimpse of my neighbor’s light
or the sound of her voice soft from behind the overgrowth

A stone’s throw away
as the crow flies

To find me I lose me, I gather up
to pick up the strewn-about pieces

At night when I peer up
I am privy to all constellations

Once I named one
after you

If I were to fall endlessly in space on my back
I would perish with a forever expanding view
of receding patterns of star fields

before me

a panoply
of eternal burning objects


Chagall 2020

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