Birds chirp, agree
the day is safe
for short reconnaissance flights
Keep the starlings close at wing,
just how early is
too early?
Worms sleep in
below the ground
languid in compost heaps
© Chagall 2014
Tag Archive: life
I embraced your arrival
so I will hold you as well
when you perish, you will taper
and disappear to leave behind
an asterisk, the ripple
of a damselfly on the lake
pure crystal tone
© Chagall 2014
In hallowed field
on sandy dune ‘neath waxing moon
till morning sun
She sings of loss
such sorrow sweet, radiant heat
lustrous new day
Her golden throat
arpeggios lost in throes
scales as heaven would
Grace notes flourish
the melody forever free
soul embellished
There is no song
she cannot sing, she’s everything
if only love
© Chagall 2014
The rain brings scents so wash-away
They defy time, carry to and fro
Small doses of memory, others and ours
I inhale drops sharply, penetrate high and deep
To a point over my head from where
I triangulate my whereabouts, abandon my wits
Rabid in the downpour
Baptized a pseudonym handpicked to avoid
Final reckon, I despise the gavel’s sound
On my inner ear, fine cilia at risk
Befallen to the sound shock of the block
The inevitable shouts, nothing I know can stop that flow
A cloud rappeler, I dangle my solitude
A soliloquy, a carbon piñata too often tethered than not
Wound taut on thin wire, release me
Let me spin
© Chagall 2014
Birds frozen in snow
hearts stained by valiant mercies
Spring thaw breathes new life
© Chagall 2014
Today’s light
is eternal morning.
It’s light that shines
for just today
despite
so many miles
still heated,
it feels warm
– even hot –
on the skin.
That alone
leaves me
breathless,
perplexed
and stymied.
We are
here,
there’s
no denying that,
but explaining it . . .
mustn’t we try?
© Chagall 2013
A trace of night mist
settles on the white birch boughs
Autumn calls you home
© Chagall, 2013
Catch a falling star
stow it in that special creel
the one you have to keep
your celestial things
careful now
they burn
utmost care
wouldn’t hurt
to preserve
the finer points
of fallen bodies
drops of water
from a magic wand
release holy
star-steam
the vapors soothe
deep breaths
bring the heavens inside
change you
cause you to rise
and swell
magnificent
so that those around
will make a wish on you
if you’re the first
they see tonight
Someday you’ll fall
burn the lights
descend in graceful arc
it’s the fate we suffer
us celestial things
© Chagall, 2013
This morning on waking
before even a rub, a squint
or reaching for the spectacles by the bedside
I lie here and stare
at the shapes at play
in the darkness of pre-dawn
The artist is a fan
of dark color on the palette
to capture the amoeba who swims there
in the deep blue paisley soup
Until the dawning
when one-celled creatures
multiply, turn millipeds
rise from the brine
rear heads
brush teeth
and head out to face the day
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
Twilight doesn’t swirl
move in tandem
or whisper as it did
when the time
between evening to dusking
stretched longer than today
rosetted sunsets barely touched
the eye and the hue
of nighttime garments
delicate, fringed
Corselettes massage
the brace of it
forcing the soul upright
to attentive pose
lean bodies
sinewy, still young
cheeks blushed with the skies pinks
reflecting new-day promise
and everywhere a freckle
now nowhere a dimple
or a wink
to conjure
the crazy thoughts
or to stir the violet echoes
© Chagall, 2013
Alphabet City 