Along the shore I paced and stood
among the varying debris
and found a piece of driftwood
which I took back home with me.
I looked out to the silky sea
to clear my thoughts and eyes
and finally it struck me
as a boat in a disguise.
At once I sat to whittle
and slowly I began
to craft a tiny vessel
from the block within my hand.
I stained the carving crimson
and I made a tiny oar.
Its maiden voyage has begun
with a bathtub to explore.
August 11, 2011
August 7, 2011
FARMHOUSE
The green felt table, strewn with cards,
stands in a stuffy room.
A light mist coats the darkened yards
– a layer of perfume.
The gentlemen are on the porch
weaving yarns and smoking.
Their sweethearts talk and clean the pots
and plot the next day’s cooking.
The clock strikes ten. The womenfolk
can hear the talk and smell the smoke.
It has been a bad year for corn.
August 1, 2011
SCAR
Life’s a flattened Good Year tire.
It's a Jewish woman restrained by wire.
It's a black man hanged up high –
a silhouette against the sky.
It's the passion of a love that burned
although that love was not returned.
It's addiction to escapes.
It's a box of old keepsakes.
A mother's star.
Her son's at war.
Life is a scar.
It's a Jewish woman restrained by wire.
It's a black man hanged up high –
a silhouette against the sky.
It's the passion of a love that burned
although that love was not returned.
It's addiction to escapes.
It's a box of old keepsakes.
A mother's star.
Her son's at war.
Life is a scar.
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And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds, For the ashes of his fathers, And the temples of his gods? - The Lays of Ancient Rome ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it, when I sorrow most; 'Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all. - Lord Alfred Tennyson, In Memoriam