Suddenly present
in a green grass meadow,
watching wind cavort
in a rippling sea of verdance,
Where is it going,
so sure of itself,
when I know nothing
of where I will stay
this night, or any other?
I wander and gander,
peering and scrying
this feasting of sight,
sunrises vivid with hoping,
sunsets dismal with knowing
what tomorrow will be
and how it will end.
~~~
I portion out cash for a day at the store,
and give it to clerks
to man (or to woman)
the register of each department’s purview.
I want it back at the end of the day
with what has come in
less what has gone out.
to serve the avarice sparkling green in my eyes.
~~~
It feels good to be working
on my feet and in charge.
Something will be what it can
if I but see it as possible.
Then I catch sight of Maggie
the golden, my wonderful dog.
There she is. I love her! I do!
She bolts into my house and hides.
I look for her, and there she is, under my bed,
Nose tucked beneath paw.
Now a different collie breaks into view.
They look so alike and lovely, I wonder
Which is true friend?
~~~
With doubt it cracks, splits, fragments,
a crazy kaleidoscopic tumble,
a panicky stir of geometries,
shattered rainbows
of color and of shape,
of feeling, delight and
anguish, love and fear
that delight, mesmerize,
titillate, obsess, disgust,
and then, in blink
of jaundiced eye,
stop.
~~~
I look in the mirror
And what do I see,
But a fearsome image
Grinning back at me.
It is small and shrunken
More bone than bonny
More hag than handsome
with pretty forgotten
Shredded to time addled dust.
~~~
What frightens more than bones
Caught in crepy lucent skin
Is the visual of a mouth rimmed blue.
~~~
“I see you,” it says.
“Please go away.
I don’t want to be the you
one more tragedic day.”
~~~
I waken with relief to
another day of governed rest
one of many to endure
but to never number.
Each will follow after
the one that went before
like ducklings
in a fuzzy row
while I hide
in fear of spectral death.
~~~
Why should I fear
some peaceful silent end
when I am
in verisimilitude
already dead?
~~~
Gone will come later
in soft sweet silent sleep.
morethanenoughtruth 
Leave a Reply