I miss my old Seth Thomas metronome
– it kept beautiful wooded time.
Chagall 2018
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perhaps someday we can collaborate
an obscure piece that future
aficionado comprehend
posthumously rewarding, weirdly delightful
to once again be granted form to
indulge in someone’s slow-moving
morning
…long after Saturday’s gone…
or so the song goes
Chagall 2018
Chips off the old blocks
tend to have nicknames
Something we often take
for granite
Rock steady
Chagall 2018
Those who once would laugh and engage most readily
are gone. I face a lot of quizzical glances
whenever I go.
Chagall 2018
Get the writing out of your head – strip the symbols
vocalize, speak the word, no gibberish, scream something new
on 3…
Chagall 2018
When that which sustains anything is gone,
so too goes anything
Chagall 2018
Skin like chocolate almond diamonds,
lips a tawny port, they pout –
they speak other language
she has oft’ written
of the splay of the neck to the shoulder –
the heavenly slope of that ride
I love her best in primary colors,
something new in any turn
so goodbye melange,
it’s back to red-blue-yellow
and the exciting possibility of new greens
Chagall 2018
Not seeing
many hummingbirds
this year maybe
I am opening
the porch door
too abruptly
I miss their hover,
their quizzical gulps
at the feeder
the bubble-up of nectar
when the drinking is sweet
cold and long
And they have so many places to go
in such a hurry they are
all the time
But not this year, at least
not so far
Chagall 2018
Pivots, shifts of balance
rock-solid underfoot and
in the groin which grounds
to the earth that sense of spiral
from head to toe of always dancing
is really only falling
with grace
We are all
hurtling
Chagall 2018
Entertainment today is streaming – like its analog, the brook –
only subscribers need ponder the meaning.
Whereas the actual water upstream from me runs clear; onward
and downstream runs cleaner; my roots are
aqua filters. I entertain myself
with cattails, poetry, acoustic
guitar, and small plates.
Chagall 2018
Alphabet City 