North of town,
at Ellis Beach,
you came from behind the scrub:
the land unclenched its fists.
Hilarious.
We’d bid farewell by Jourama Falls.
What odds now had us on
each other’s paths again?
Oh song within song…
Oh rest within rest…
Fallen palms along the sand
on which passersby
walked the planks
to the One True Ocean…
All too perfect
like the start of a life.
Every day a sunrise…
Every day a sunset…
Sometimes they come together
and the dark doesn’t change to the light
but the life…
Three fledglings in our yard
Here's a poem
for Saturday night.
May all the
boys
get what
they like.
May all the
girls
fulfill their
dreams.
May each enjoy
each other’s
schemes.
We
transcend the limits of sight
by painting,
and limits
of words
by poetry.
We lift
ourselves to God
by dying to
self,
and transcend
the darkness
by loving
it.
There was Jordan
at first
—the original game of chess;
the template,
the moves made.
Oh Jordan…
Were you lifetimes ago?
We rendezvoused at family homes.
We talked of having kids.
We were
the kids
on backyard trampolines
somewhere overseas.
Forever young
somewhere still.
And then
there was Mel.
My gorgeous Mel.
We crossed the Rubicon to adulthood
and I to sin.
Mel of the Garden,
I of the fruit.
If God could not forgive,
I know that you would still forgive.
Mel: the one who saw a prince
in the eyes of a toad.
Mel, with whom I ate at home
and was at peace.
And then
Diana.
My mountaintop.
My lightning.
My pain and grace.
My Magdalene.
Diana, Diana…
All in the name
if all could know
what we once knew.
What now, queen? What now?
The line crossed.
The ribbon snapped.
The medals stored.
The crowd went home, sweet angel.
So did we
without each other.
The churches, the flesh,
the us against the lie.
The glory.
The aftermath.
To rejoice or despair,
my queen?
The stage is set.
We play our part.
I rise from a mattress on the floor
and draw the curtains.
