No poem is as good as a melody,
no memory sweet like a kiss,
no wind so swept as a night-breeze blowing,
no eyes are cleared for this dream.
© Chagall, 2013
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It’s late and so it’s time
to be plain
Pulse steady and eyes trained
on the target
I feel so long and lithe
and alive
While it’s fun to be obtuse
I think you should know
That before morning comes
I will die for you.
© Chagall, 2013
Newborns are certain
though you’ll never hear them say
heaven imparts love
Life’s best without words
mere symbols get in the way
poets be forewarned
Name it to lose it
stepped aside by one degree
objects lose their shape
Conform to design
preconceived notions thwart us
maya at the turn
Like distant cousins
what once was plain as the day
lost in the shuffle
© Chagall, 2013
I’m wholly depressed
under half-moon
and totally enthralled
when it’s full
I cast shadows
over fields
with the beams
at my back
as I gallop
along the ridge
on the steed
with intelligent eyes
warm, a tall seat
short, this cold night
© Chagall, 2013
A trace of night mist
settles on the white birch boughs
Autumn calls you home
© Chagall, 2013
In three-quarter time
we dance about shuttered rooms
spiral lost dark waltz
© Chagall, 2013
Can you smell the pine?
Needles all about the ground
Earth is so loamy
© Chagall, 2013
Wind through the trees,
Autumn –
or is that surf,
July?
I am northeast
and southbound
baby.
I need a jukebox,
an American Legion.
I prefer a good tap beer,
or a pinot noir from Beaune.
You can’t beat 3PM
for afternoon
delight.
although
noon, one
two, four, five
all have special meaning
Okay,
anytime
is right.
I adore
the produce aisle.
I do so love
losing my ticklish mind
undercover with you.
Keep a bottle on chill,
keep us moving forward.
© Chagall, 2013
A Latina
plays soulfully
an ocarina
to a note
all
of the saddest songs.
So much to say
in a single breath.
No time
for a a kiss,
just breathe.
© Chagall, 2013
Oh man!
I just got an August blast –
did anybody else
feel that?
© Chagall, 2013
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