21 years since you passed
today, 21 years Chloe
I felt you strongly while driving,
called out your name, give me a sign
that you’re there, that you hear
I cried when the car
ahead of me turned
to reveal a truck in front
with license plate CHL124
I love you Chloe
Chagall 2015
I love the way
sound sounds
in slow crunchy snowfall
there’s no doubt
that we’re inside
the dome
Chagall 2015
She’d already begun her fade to phantasm
a moment before dodging the flood,
how nimbly she came and went at will
a slow pulsing light in my life.
Chagall 2015
No wind
still arbors
living trees
in repose
Docile shaggy creatures
unwashed but scented
deeply of Mother
breathing
Absorb light
emit air
knee-deep
vernal pools
I am the sound
of the haze that’s risen
each morning heat cast
in winter chill
I am hope
pervasive
Chagall 2015
Your majesty, let this be writ today
Cineri gloria sera est
Glory paid to ashes comes too late
In waltz
cotton parasols like white petals
pirouette on open bud
spun this swaying lady
In tango curvy, nay brilliant
bryllyg and slythy
a perfect silhouette
A fantail shuffle
a slide-step past the moonlight
your finest top-shelf anything really
may your night be forever early
Chagall 2015
She fell from the branch
immediately shaping a figure S
then soared on a wing full of air
while I remain here unamused
lacking desire to fly
Chagall 2015
I will kiss your face
while you try not to giggle.
Who’s game?
Chagall 2015
Sometimes I right-click, toggle the Language
to some exotic setting, then I travel
vicariously through font and accented characters
I wax eloquent, coerce my prose forward
on-line editing is friendly that way
I am riding the metro my dear, I will be home
to our small flat in that city where the Language
has a large following of speakers
I am fluent, the years have treated you well
how I still love embracing you every night
I say I love you in every language possible
as a ritual every night I’m compulsive that way
it takes hours I know I’m sorry
I will right-mouse-click us out of this jam pronto
Chagall 2015
I’ll find peace
in my mind
I seek freedom
outside
May birds forever
fly
Sun for all
upturned faces
Rain
to quench thirst
I’ve my own sliver
of moon
Chagall 2015
I guess we’re somewhere in the smear of things
right between the eyes and ears and legs of things
upside down screaming on the edge of wings
so neatly clipped
in narrow fissure chasms squeeze us tight
but we emerge in full span soaring high
too soon too fast, my love, too late too sad, my heart
breaks that this is less than fleeting love
gliders – everywhere clouds and biplanes
they hang there right above our heads
and do you know, the wild blue balloons do too?
Chagall 2015
Alphabet City 