as a pointillist I dabble in implication, you infer sky and water from dots I render the eyes' sweet surrender to that which is not I touch the blue by the sky inside you, provoke the memory of dappled green whorls of afternoon sun diffract lazily off the pond reflecting nearby reindeer lichen you the viewer are yourself once again twice stippled cc: Carlos 2021
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I dive off the landing from the top of the stairs and frantically grab at the tiny copper beads that are the pull-chain of the bare-bulb light knowing full well they will not hold me Descent is an endless whorl I am found with them still clenched in my hand, the light yet intact, the handrail unbroken No seeping liquids anywhere cc: Chagall 2021
the balloon from your party still holds its helium long after you're gone it bobs there yet in the ceiling corner its long rainbow tassel a curlicue of color in time it will slide down the wall without promise of rising anymore all the best wishes of the day flattened and peeling inert cc: Chagall 2021
She screamed out to save the babies, so I threw myself upon the world, to shield them from the concussive blow cc: Chagall 2021
I got no salt on my egg no sugar in my coffee or butter on my bread but I don't give a damn ...'cause I a'int a'int got you cc: Chagall 2021
Come with me! I know a place where there are updrafts still You can catch your wings and soar Icy blue winds near the edge of horizons Very thin air so easy to breathe So little remaining cc: Chagall 2021
now and then I end up in this timeless morning where memory and hope reconcile to define me I yearn for that which I already have longing for just a moment longer I am best when I am in stark relief against the world I am the figure or the ground timeless life is art cc: Chagall 2021
nothing, not even the weather, is non-manipulable cc: Chagall 2021
against a backdrop of nothing the wind is less lonesome quiet brings empathy silence brings furtive kisses once reserved for glances hair is aroma on a curve, a neck of deep meaning a reckoning at the throat, soft offhand tickles at the heart let me skip into your eyes to frolic there toss petals to the same green pastures you see ice dams break all around us now too jagged to float impaled, better abandoned on a deserted isle just us and a lone palm tree burnished rock buried in beautiful emblazoned sand what a fine grip for toes, and backs, for hot treading for standing firm in Mother Earth, upon her maiden voyage from afar She glides, a Blue Pearl in a tunnel of silent freefall a young Dame giddy from carousel turns and sweet soft candies the most gentle kiss at the wrist cc: Chagall 2021
And in the afternoon, toast with maple syrup, a handful of almonds, and tea lightly touched by bergamot. cc: Chagall 2021
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