Epitaph for a Lady

A butterfly stretches newly minted wings
exotic and remote,
and hurricanes ensue.

While closer to home a tenant longs for ownership,
a salesman dreams of financial reward,
And a marquee goes dark.

All things connected.
All lines intersect.
All interests converge into one vibrating whole.

Building for Lease

Silent and solemn.
Who knew lust would quickly die
at the hand of greed?

Aspirational Shoes

Fifteen paces ahead
Red soles flashing with every step
She walks
Clumsily
Carefully
Avoiding potholes and grates
Toes pointing to cardinal directions
Unsteady
Ungainly
Wanting to be something she is not
yet.

Vacation Beard


Stroke by stroke and pass by pass
the warmed steel slices away the persona of leisure.
Five days’ growth is gone.
And as it settles on the bottom of the basin I wonder –
Is memory found only in mind?
Or is some infinitesimal piece bound up in whisker?

Messenger

I wish I were a bicycle messenger.
Oblivious to danger.
Pedaling furiously through town.
Navigating upstream between lanes of oncoming cars.
Then darting onto the sidewalk -
a right angle impulse -
to stop at a cafe
and enjoy an espresso with my bike messenger friends.

What would we talk about?
What issues would we debate?

Who among us is fastest?
A friend's most recent tattoo?

Or, just perhaps, our waning immortality?

The Daily Commute

Far below my window
thousands of multicolored ants
jewel-like in the sun
slowly rush to their destinations

north or south, east or west
some to their homes
to husbands, wives, lovers, children

some to their work
whether drudgery or joy

all oblivious to each other
to me
and to the world around them

Odd

My wife called this morning.
The love of my life,
her message was simple.
She called to tell me I was odd.
And on consideration of her statements I can reach only one conclusion.
She is is misguided.
I am neither odd nor even. 
I am zero.

Embrace

While walking in the city, I happened upon two men.
Arm in arm they embraced.
And as they stopped on the busy sidewalk to express the joy of their meeting,
and their love for one another,
the world continued on.
Unharmed.

Gulls

The sun shining, I sit inside.
Outside my window, seagulls cavort on updrafts.
Beneath me the busy street.
My desk contemptible comfort.
My office tidy.
My soul dreaming of flight.

Eight by Twelve

Destructive and spoiled,
the talentless starlet arrives in court to begin her punishment.
Sentenced to ninety days.
She'll spend perhaps two weeks in her eight by twelve foot cell.
Before being released back into her world of privilege and excess.

Hours away,
a man builds his home of equal size.
A sink, a stove and a loft for a bed.
Front porch welcomes all.
Unencumbered by privilege.
Unhindered by excess.
He is free.

Distraction

My fingers, once dextrous,
now fumble and fail.
Clumsily pushing
twisting and turning.
The clasp will not open.
Happiness, warmth and porcelain skin all wait inside.
Twenty years dissolve
I am once again nervous
anxious
eager
trembling
longing
yours

Summer in Seattle

Ghostly pale.
Blue veins a topographical map of months spent under flannel.
Now emerging mole-like, squinting at the sky.
Barista - make that an iced latte!

Off to the casino

With arthritic hip, the aging hipster ambles down the gangplank.
Hat pulled low.  Pants sagging lower.
Spiderweb tattoo dripping from flaccid elbow.
Bleached blonde on arm.  Her scent of rancid perfume and cigarette fills the air.
Will they find luck?

Unmarked banjo, circa 1885

Silent and aching
the ancient banjo reclines in the corner
without strings or tailpiece
neck twisted in homage of prior abuse
of steel strings grafted to untruss'd frame

How long has it been since you last felt the warmth of human touch?
Or the quiver of gently plucked string?
For how long have you been silent,
longing to raise your voice
in joy, or sadness or simple prayer?

A covenant I offer.
A pact between us.
For my part, new strings,
a bridge of maple, tailpiece and resurrection.
For yours, you must sing once again.
Sing of your history. Of the day of your birth
and the hands and ears that have loved you. 
I will listen and learn.
And I too will love.

Red Polka Dot Dress

Red polka dot dress
clinging to your shapely frame
I wonder your name

Eagle on Channel Marker #3

Alone, vigilent, regal, cruel.
Sitting watch over cloudy shore
with piercing gaze and unblinking eye.
What have you seen?  For what deeds are you so proud?
Of our many encounters, only once were you accompanied.
Only once felt the companionship of your kind.
And on that occasion of aerial courtship (more struggle than love)
     were you at peace?
Grasping talons seem a cold facsimile of warm embrace,
     flushing skin, quickening pulse.

Are we so different?
Do you not long for loving contact?
Or wish to witness the flight of the newly fledged?
But sit alone, remorseful for what you know not - staring to sea?

Inspiration

My lungs expand. 
I breathe him in and out.
Commingled but constant.
Indistinguishable though definite.
His presence within and without.
An atom here.  A molecule there.
Though years pass quickly his essence remains.
Circulating through me, and mixing with my own.
And in that sanguine commiseration, whom does he meet?
The child I never knew?
Sons of my sons, yet unborn?
For they too are with me.
They too are within me.

Who Gives this Gift?

Who gives this gift of words that linger past dreams?
Of images that loiter through subconscious thoughts
Overstaying their welcome?
A prank of mind.
Hazy in aspect
Ephemeral
Elemental
Unwanted
Welcome

CVB

Unsainted.
Flawed.
A deeply lined face bears witness to four decades and more
of never-ending battle with worry.
For what may come.
For what may not come.
Motherhood devoured her at twenty-eight
and though children grow and grandchildren flourish
she remains in its clutches.
And sits alone.
Drinking coffee
smoking cigarettes
and longing for youth.

Vista

Looming ghostly white
Destruction clad in beauty
Sleeping volcano

Lacework in the Morning

The softly rhythmic click of tip on tip
keeps time as steaming mug of coffee cools
while with each row I stop to take a sip
and study where I next must place the jewels
that peek between soft twisted strands of lace
now slowly forming from the loops of black
in lustrous thread where wool and silk embrace.
The charted squares allow me to keep track.
Each row one hundred fifteen stitches long
until I start decreasing at each edge.
My hands combine with thread in time and song
to make the gift I promised by my pledge.
For though they've savage beasts put on display
the zoo needs funds to last from day to day.

11:05

Snoring
Twitching
Half-voicing whimpers and barks
The old dog sleeps in his bed
Dreaming of squirrels
or maybe of cats

Snoring
Twitching
Half-voicing exclamations
The young boy sleeps in his bed
He wakes in his dreams
but not from them

Silent
Racing
My mind wanders over my day
and I dream of sleep

Alien flora

Sprouting from small seed
Tamarind sits on my desk.

How big will it grow?