In the vast empty
that is existence
dark and cold and lonely
without purpose, reason, or rhyme,
somewhere at this very moment
to the cheers of her mom and dad
a young girl rounds third
and is waved on home,
for she is the winning run.
© Chagall 2015
Morning melody
Harmony swells far away
Still near songless birds
© Chagall 2015
There along my thumb
where the small cells
resemble parcels of land,
a hard ball forms, straddles
the tiny triangles that stitch
me together: mutant, multiplying,
malignant.
© Chagall 2015
Eyes grow heavy, my mind wanders to the edge
of that time when white lace curtains blew
on a gentle breeze, I step out the door, a porch
suspended on the edge of a cloud for a portico
crunchy like snow, the others dive, I’m game but
such a long way down, instead I hesitate
missing them as they leap one by one,
I run after the small lost dog and slip on the mud
that the snow has become, I surf while she watches
not falling but staining the back of my pants
in a low crouch, the other says that’s the song
and I say that’s the same one you asked about yesterday,
that’s what’s-her-name, and in the dream I tell her
that I dreamed about her, already wrapped up beyond
and tangled in the fray.
© Chagall 2015
So soon
to be
so much
too late.
© Chagall 2015
Life also brings rain
falls like a last hurrah
the hush before
the din thereafter
earth and soul part friends
one last look then fade
© Chagall 2015
The dreams last night
have not since faded,
but bleed instead
this rim of day,
seep to pervade
elusive light.
I dance in new sun,
rays that bend
to form me.
© Chagall 2015
Softly day appears
Talcum swirls about the air
Night alights swiftly
© Chagall 2015
I was once
a bird in flight
I remember
batting my wings
wildly to stay aloft,
the hard click
of our beaks,
the warm nest,
songs for no reason,
the promise of sky.
© Chagall 2015
I hope you love
the life you have,
in fact I even pray
that you have everything
you’d ever want, may you never want.
© Chagall 2015
Alphabet City 