Eternal bright light
Her soliloquy honey
Evergreen deep rain
© Chagall ∞
Tag Archive: sun
You
the final ray of
sun on her face
Tell me,
did she lower her eyes and
were her cheeks flushed?
© Chagall ∞
Petite organisms traipse ever so tipsily
o’er the photosynthetic landscapes of leaves
on yonder trees and nearby yews, everyone’s doing
the tango, the tangle of photons, lip-locked organelles,
dancing to Miles’s Solar.
© Chagall ∞
There on the snow, the shadows of ancient flyers
perched atop rooflines, barring the sun.
© Chagall ∞
The last silver streamer alights,
confetti and ticker tape abandon flight,
balloons fall from celebration
failing to be held aloft.
Remember when we were? Each awakening brought
a new day with new sun in which we bathed defiant,
we dared it to blind us, we countered with our own
heat, radiance, impulse to grow, and then to burn away.
Soft brooms whisk the memory; the clink of glasses raised
to toast is still there, not quite yet imperceptible.
© Chagall 2017
And Julia says hi –
a summer of sun soaked
peppermint RayBan razzmatazz
– tell her hello for me too.
© Chagall 2016
The night is crisp, autumnal.
Bourbon sweeter.
My son and his petite amie
at a friend’s cabin while they’re away.
With them, a bag of sweet potatoes
I grew and cured, for roasting
over the wood fire they’ll make.
Life is good.
Peepers sing earlier
than usual tonight. Harmonics from breezes
to trees to shape the glass arc of our ears
to blow gently in them.
I am yellow aged orange inflamed
dared to go red before withering.
I pray to the last gold ray of sun
there in the tall eastern trees
that refuses to say die to another day.
© Chagall 2016
On Mercury
its day is
longer than
its year
It’s all
about spin
the path
your journey
Chagall 2016
I hold my head
I move my hands
sculpted fingers
In poised asymmetry
I trace rotations
about my core
I am the orbits
of moon around earth
around sun
I am
polyrhythm
Chagall 2015
Alphabet City 