Tag Archive: awareness

Till Tomorrow

I find I
am torn


ripped along
dotted lines

I will



© Chagall 2017

Stark Relief

Today while reading Figure and Ground, I highlight
passages that I do not want to remember.

© Chagall 2017


The light is soft here as if all the world is heather
askance, atilt and askew. I stare at a door ajar
that invites me to slip in now and then, and I do.
I float on a tone, bulbous sound beats against time
measured in gulps, a three-quarter waltz paced regularly
when I least expect it to. I wish you eternal lavender.
Life offers life on the gentlest of palms below the wrists’
hollows so slender and kissable. Cheeks intended for cupping
dimple and provoke the protrusion of lips for tugging, to daub,
pull and pout. The colors around me begin to lose their soft-edge,
sadly. I hear the click of the door lock, not certain which side I am on.
On the down beat I gracefully swoop with torque and suspension,
sinew and skin and blood, at work in miraculous union.

© Chagall 2017


each poem is

another poem

I find myself

for them

Chagall 2016

Chatting In The Drift

I am intrigued by how blizzard snow removes reverb from the world
how your voice carries urgent presence atop cold flat air

Chagall 2016

Life Just Overwhelms Me Joyously So

Perhaps I come here once too often
I’m sorry if I exceed my welcome
it’s just so wonderful here –
I never cease to be charmed,
woven by the spell, mystique
ceases to be such if everyday . . .
but it is such! I could spend eternity here
and every moment would forever be more lovely.

Chagall 2015



It’s Saturday morning,
I find within my mind
that which allows it
to never slip away.

© Chagall 2015

Once Removed


I’m not saying step away,
I’m saying step back a bit
and give us both room to breathe.

© Chagall 2015



Endless possibility filled the moment
(which happened to be morning) sun
baked me dry and timeless so I became
one with the sky so far
above the ground I hover, delight
in my self now not at all
sad to lose it.

© Chagall 2015

Alternative Ending


If I’d known the pages were there
I’d have read them, odd how my story
worked better not knowing.

© Chagall 2015

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