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Symbologic

Once I woke to a dream 
after having not gone to bed

One day I will lie down to sleep
and leave the dream

Until stirred 
to awaken again

In the fog of new light
I recall fragments of the earlier dream

These will fade once words come

cc: Chagall 2021

Prelude In Just This Key

largo the obbligato rolls
across my ear like
slow thunder

tympani atop the waves
crest and pop into droplets
at the apex

trapped underwater 
trapped underground:
subterranean rivers flow
across my face with
slithery tendrils,
kelp and salty agar

the melody sings my inability 
to breathe without gills 
this time around

once on shore, I am not certain
whether to fly, to run, or to flop about
in a death throe

I deem the sun most welcome
after the rain

cc: Chagall 2021

One to Two, Maybe More

the snow falls slower than my heart beats,
I descend in irregular swirls,
buoyant, at first light aloft

I am yet to be alit 
still in search of ground

without regard for the frigid air,
for no matter the temperature
I fail to accumulate

instead I melt 
on eyelashes 
run down cheeks

without regard for the whisperer,
her lips and her eyes only partially close
and so she lisps
as she edges away

to exit
silently

whistling
she circles mid-air
like stars or like snow
as if wind were gravity

cc: Chagall 2021

fluorescent

when too many strangers 
gather...

I pattern myself
as a snowstorm

muffled
calm

cold crunchy
under-footing

tender iced
fingertips

a burst of warmth
soon to come, soon to rise

a tepid updraft
on which to ride

beneath where the bow breaks
is an ocean of cradles

she sings
rock-a-bye lullaby

softly at night 
in powdered fields

faraway moonlit hills
small gray-purple bumps

he and she that shan't want
shall still wait

there need not be lights
for there to be neon

cc: Chagall 2021



Nothing In Particular

what if 
you are the snow?

so many constellations,
one sky

numerous simultaneities

the sum of the heart

cc: Chagall 2021
a stark visage comes alive
in the garden moonlight,
fluorescently yours I pulse
alive on this wind, a carpet-ride
at relaxing low altitude,
I hover over your yard, I wave,
imagine you sleep there, 
inside this same dream of me

cc: Chagall 2021

Tis the Season

The coup de grace
led to coup d'etat
fa la la la la
la la-di-da

cc: Chagall 2021

Haiku for What Remains Behind

Alone on the roof
Full-rigged ships at the harbor
Watch me sail away

cc: Chagall 2021

How Moves Are Made

this time around is an accident
but she sees the effects of it
having been played

so
she stows that away for another day
awaiting the right time

cc: Chagall 2021
So far from Eden
No single soul who shows love
All the gates are closed

cc: Chagall 2021

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