In the long dark hours of night
Snow fell.

I stand four stories tall
Upon my tiny deck.
With joy I breathe the air
So cold and sharp
I feel cleansed from cell
To soul.
I sweep my sight down and back
The long line of fir and cedar,
Elder trees of a hundred years
Standing shoulder to shoulder,
My most constant friends.
Today each wears
A wrap of white tall and
Glistening in fall from the sky.
Brides of Christ?
Travelers of the Haj?
Or just old friends of the Creator?

Eventually I look downward
Upon a world made pure and simple,
No print of foot nor tire
To mar the snowy blanket,
No voice to mar
The icy silence.

I lay out food for my other friends,
No doubt hard in need of energy.
There is seed for the little ones,
Juncos, towhees and thrush,
Chopped peanut for crows and jays,
Suet for all.

This snowy morning
Creator sings
Of her creations.
Can you hear her?

With a snort
I awoke from a chilly doze
Rubbed my weary eyes
An aching yawn erupted

Christ it’s 2 am
Nothing to show but
This limp little thing
Lying half clothed
On the yellow tablet
A gimp of a poem
One arm missing
One leg too short

Sudden like
She sat ***** said
Oooh, I like Billy Holiday
Let’s dance

NO…let’s not
She insisted took me
In her one arm
Danced me round
Round again the room
Limping
Past the old Sears and Roebuck radio

I admit she was light on her feet
Probably my fault
She was missing a lot
Of words I lost
In the Scotch

She stopped
Saw the jar on the old desk
Gimme a dollar
Shoved it through the lid
I’m dead on my feet girl
Going to bed
Kissed her on the cheek

I flipped off the lights
Left her standing swaying staying
Wrapped by her one arm
In the dark
Nina Simone sang on

Yeah
I added a new name to
The 99 names of Allah:
*******

Yep
I pray to *******

At 2:00am I scream at *******
What do you want of me?

What do you want *******?
Take me home or
Show me my purpose

Give me a partner *******
To fill this pit of loneliness

I pray with anger
I pray to *******

Every duty placed in my path
I tried to fulfill *******
I now deserve better

Take me home *******
Or show me my purpose

Thus I pray to *******
The 100th name of Allah

Often beauty is relative to need.

Four or five pints
And the need is sudden and intense.
That long trough of stainless steel
Filled with mounds of gleaming ice
Is one of the nights most beautiful sights.

Did you awake a little blue?
Grandma’s cocoa fix is tried and true.
Spoon two big heaps into your brew;
Quickly bid those blues adieu.

Pray for Death
As she walks our halls.
Pray she tap so softly
Upon each chamber door
Where angels long prepared her visit.
Pray her breath is sweet
When she whispers,
Come my love, it’s time,
And pray her hand be warm
As she guides each on the way.
And if you think Death capable of mistake,
As I do not,
But if you do,
Pray the taken Soul
All the sooner,
All the closer,
Be clasped to our Lord.

Where are you
My final love?

I swear true
For you alone
Shall words I write

For you alone
My heart beat

For you alone
My fierce caress

For you alone
Laughter and tears

For you alone
My final death

Where are you
My final love?