Tag Archive: family


I was your sister, you were older, I listened,
I thought you knew things I might need to know
even though you often said so very little, and
in the end I want you to know I will miss you,
I am younger, oddly no wiser, I regret you not
having known me better, as I you.

© Chagall ∞

Dearest Eve

Near a century ago, cousins
from the old country had written
to her, my grandmother, to tell her of
new life, love, old life, and death,
she’d missed, the chronology of
the beautifully handwritten cursive
on paper unlike any I’ve ever seen
in size and touch, with a scent of
many years contained there in the folds and
the unfolding of many reads, here and there
a letter blurred, the errant pen of
the author or a teardrop.

© Chagall 2016


Where do all
the tumbleweeds go
after they’ve blown away?

Where do all
the scorpions hide
during the rain storm?

Watch me now,
James Brown said,
watch me as I bust a move.

even back then
out there in the desert.

© Chagall 2016

Table 12

Yes – perfect – place her there,
far from the maddening roar of
the love these two share.

© Chagall 2016

The Interim

The lights are going out,
not forever – just for now.

We have coffee and tea,
we can make bread if need be,
sing, play cards …

Only for a little while,
only just for now.

© Chagall 2016


The poems I write are like
the dollar bets my grandmother made
everyday needing something
to ride on

Chagall 2016


From My Grandmother’s Window

I fear we’re becoming
people who have no concern
for those who succeed us

Instead we live for the moment
without an obligating sense
to make Gaia inheritable

Similarly there are those
who have no reverence
for those who precede us

Family, tradition, culture and mores
reduce to biology resembling nothing
more than a gene pool

May they drown in the shallow end

Chagall 2016

The Immediacy Of Intimacy

Sunday early eve
eastern standard

Her parents are old
but still alive
and mine are still
quite dead

We both hang on
we four

Plus others within
our gravity

We call

Our love traces
many roots
to get here

We are leaves, we are buds
on a tree growing

Sunday early eve
eastern standard

Chagall 2015

A Hug And A Dollar

In this more recent age
of high-tech thievery and thuggery
I find myself more and more
missing my grandma, simpler days.

Chagall 2015

On Belay

When she was a child we played a game
we pretended to be high on a cliff at the edge
losing grip on our footing we’d plummet
down off the bed as if from Everest
at the last minute grabbing hands in mid-air
in outstretched rescue every sinewy muscle
straining to hold onto life. She writes
that it’s readied her well for the fight,
she loves me, it’s time to let go.

Chagall 2015

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