She wipes her tears away
a soft fold of white tat
lace doesn’t daub well
merely smears the sadness
she feels, has always felt
She’d rather it rain down
blow a hole inside her soul
hollow out the echoes once again
blues – nothing but blues wash her
away to find lost paradise
Chagall 2016
I only have a moment to tell you that
today the air was more electric than before and
the beauty of existence at large is so overwhelming that
I feel alive from my belly up into my neck then
something odd happens in my face and mind
I want desperately to cry, to weep at the wonderful
creatures that are all about, these colors of all senses
How do I tell you all of that in
this our only moment?
Chagall 2016
Alphabet City 