Twice I watched her leave,
always the strange wisps vanished;
nothing to hold on.
© Chagall 2014
Tag Archive: Alphabet City
I found her shears in the garden today
though it’s years since she’s passed away;
I imagine she left them one morning
then nature took its course, consumed the pair.
Time unveiled them just now at this moment
in the mound of rocks we’d hill together,
tiny stone quarries nestled by the beds.
Strung Bougainvillea, tatted Queen Anne’s lace
grow through the handle loops about the blade,
whetted once, now too dull to pare the rose.
So petals and thorns need not be afraid
of falling prey to the anvil motions;
how I miss her steady hands, my twin soul.
© Chagall 2014
Twilight breeze considers the young gold flame,
with love proposes she release her heat.
The wind down on bended knee, vows to stay,
excites much sweeter but cold honeyed moons
© Chagall 2014
Just as song the words flow
in time, gating the sense.
To know is
in the making.
The interval is not known
until the second tone.
© Chagall 2014
In a dream, she calls to me from outside.
It’s just before the darkness settles in,
the final rays of sunlight still the trees,
the day retains its heat, promising night.
I open the window and wave to her,
this Juliet fair at my balcony,
gently nudge my body forward then down
floating slowly to the ground beside her.
Her face, beautifully lit, supernatural
in bold relief against the black empty.
She is so close, she eclipses the world;
as we meld we do not pass but are one.
I am her for the moment so I feel
the love for me I as she has for him,
turns us still deeper inward till again
there is no separation; there’s no need.
© Chagall 2014
The world reflects in her tear
like an Escher orb
whole till dissolve
leaving nary but a speck
of moisture
I watch as the breeze
fades it away
© Chagall 2014
Sweeten it first
then chill it down
© Chagall 2014
Peace lies there just outside the window,
still they draw their blind.
© Chagall 2014
When I was small you took my hand, led me to distant places
around the corner and up the block
You carried me so I grew to know
the spiral of your ear and the curls about it
Your smelled of taffy, salt, and wind,
as a newborn I’d mistake that for the contour of your cheek
Senses ran together then
before words but after sound
Essentially
once upon a time
© Chagall 2014
Happy drunken steps down snowy streets
I see her frosted breath in powdered balloons
her words wrapped in smiles hang there
like the moment hangs there
beside ourselves
things we could have said alongside that which was
© Chagall 2014
Alphabet City 