GENERAL SYNOPSIS

A settled ridge of high pressure:

windows open to sleepless visibility,

far from occasionally poor.

Soon beyond these roofs and chimneys

look, a finishing line. In eventide shadows

seek common thread to bind your day.

Fish scale clouds – for a time – recede

fair becoming variable. A fall unseen

waits around some half-dark corner.

Rising more slowly, step outside;

with weight of footfall steady your staggering gaze.

The warm air turns, veering upward.

Harvest moonshine floods the gutter.

Lit by clarity of its stories, spilling down,

find eye for your loosened shoelace.

 

ix.2016

THE COMING OF AGE

Should we not stop for death,

he’ll slowly come with stealth not show.

 

Joints worn down get narrow;

 

made plain by their shadow image.

Rather know your inner rage,

for until turned, no page is read.

This story hangs by threads,

divining names we’ve said, but slurred.

And being seen not heard,

as line by line our words forgot,

is time to crypt from cot     

spent mostly doing what we’re told?                   

Or not, if making bold.

Breathe out, breathe in and hold each breath.

 v. 2018

PHOTO OF THE ARTIST AS A YOUNG WOMAN

Eyes. Always begin with the eyes.

Abstracted, hers gaze half-away

beyond the border lines.

Fixed in far-off monochrome,

this face had time to prepare,

yet is smooth with the sureness of youth.

Mane of hair, centre parted,

is a curtain not yet drawn back.

Not picture perfect. The slight wave

a question – like woods and flowers

on an upward path – where she sees

how earthbound feet might tread.

Face you could be sweet on –

before the muttering retreats

of hip replacement, varifocus

and whiny hearing aids.

When once – through blindfold of our dreams –

we would conjure worlds uncropped.

iv. 2018