Tag Archive: age


From the Rocking Chair

Lavender amulets tattooed on her legs, release their scent, tender zeal,
a vernal pool. Approach me my melancholy rockabye baby, cuddle up,
never turn blue.

© Chagall ∞

O’ What a Pair

I have an odd dynamic with my father-in-law:
He is a 90 year old man but a very new soul, whereas
I am merely half his age but my soul has traveled twice
by thrice his. Our interplays are often quite quirky.

© Chagall 2017

Fire Escapes Covered in Snow

Christmas Morning on the Lower East Side when I was five
I awoke to find a tiny white baby grand piano alongside
the tree that crowded the front room of our railroad apartment.
Not quite a toy, it was a real instrument crafted to stand
not two feet high. On the beautiful bench sat a card in script
that simply said Love Dad.

This year, for what would be his 100th Christmas, I will place
my hands on the keyboard again to wish him peace in silent night.

© Chagall 2016

Jab To The Plexus

Dear Sara – I was deeply saddened today to realize it will take less time to attain your parents’ age than has transpired since we first met. Desperately breathing irregularly. Love, Carlos

© Chagall 2016

Nothing But a Space-Time Thing

I am exhilarated by early morning and
the promise of timelessness
to experience life’s wonder.

Till evening song
when hours hang heavily and
I shift to the eternity of sky for bearing.

© Chagall 2016

October

Ripe things are
getting harder to find
nowadays.

© Chagall 2016

Ice Chips

The night is crisp, autumnal.
Bourbon sweeter.
My son and his petite amie
at a friend’s cabin while they’re away.
With them, a bag of sweet potatoes
I grew and cured, for roasting
over the wood fire they’ll make.

Life is good.
Peepers sing earlier
than usual tonight. Harmonics from breezes
to trees to shape the glass arc of our ears
to blow gently in them.
I am yellow aged orange inflamed
dared to go red before withering.

I pray to the last gold ray of sun
there in the tall eastern trees
that refuses to say die to another day.

© Chagall 2016

Pine

I retrace the line of
her handwritten note
to make me feel
she’s still here

Chagall 2016

Sand Dance

One day long
ago I lived
with a senorita
who scored
clave-shaker
duets for money

From the window
I shouted
It appears as if
snow is starting
to fall!

She whispered dryly
Then let’s let it

Chagall 2016

Carved In A Tree

We scream at each other
we are art – some say

Whisperers
I hear you

Beat me purple baby
till I’m plumb

Just a kiss away
we’re whisked away
some cabaret

I stand
corrected

I lie
in and on and about
green meadows

Till we fall
softest of all
about them

Chagall 2016

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