Did you feel it?

That love I sent you yesterday—
Did you feel it?

We forget the desires
that get us started
Illness was his doctor and
he told me he was dying
To kindness, to knowledge
we make promises
To pain, we always obey

That’s some hell of a price you’ll pay
if you can’t agree with most of us

The Spring colors are younger, brighter
Look at that light, yellow flower
or that hedge with
its youngish, pale greens
I tell you about an anguished heart,
like a faint, white moon low in the sky
while the sun glares yellow and bright

Your strength, grace, bravery—
all tell us you were here

When I think of how
my parents never got to be old
and I think of how old they’d be now
it’s almost as though
I’m saying goodbye to them again
All of earth’s life shares
the same genetic code

Well made bold fictions
serve to magically bind us

Where my passions go
and my illusions dissipate
I see a three-quarter moon
gleam high in the bright
morning with the sun like a crazy
thrill shared by two hardened rash gamblers
or two audacious, obsessive lovers

Your family doesn’t really
know you, not like I do

The smallish apple tree
(how that hardy, little tree did last)
where we’d meet surreptitiously
each morning on the way to work,
was, late one day, viciously
ripped from its roots
in a freakish urban tornado

The white moon low in the sky
where the bright sun first came alive

I was told that in order to hang your poster
it should be professionally framed and mounted
in a process called “dry mounting”
So I innocently ask the art store clerk
“Do you do dry mounting, here?”
And he replies, “No, we do wet mounting
What’s it to you?”

We touch the thin membranes
between life and death

A sudden, violent slip—
the severed tendons,
the surgery, the sutures, the
continuous biting pain and then
the healing, long and slow
like the last words of a
dying friend

“I was very fond of art
and very fond of life”




-May 28, 2015-