House feels damp
in between
seasons of life
where I try to start a fire
Sky tonight was an amethyst fan
on a ruby line
the sun an ember
rolling golden years  
down the Hills of Scranton
to the city's lights
Across the town
toward that bend in the river

a driving dusk

I am a slave to my windy heart
        that blows past reason
Over the edge of new starts
Into the woods of longing's treason --

Cells on fire, dreams course together
To and fro, each beat, each sigh,
Our passions journey knows no weather
        and disobey the dawn's thin cry --

We croon to the trees our eager song
        and sleep on the rustling leaves below
Whispering what we knew all along
Not to draw the bow --

But drawn it is, against mind's will
Night skies have called our names
There it is between us, still,
                Unflick'ring, unwav'ring flame --

As we walk under a merciless sun across
        a field of scrubgrass that chafes our ankles
A hot wind blows across your face and I see
        that age belongs to you now with its spots
        and crevices --

Our path is blocked by a mob of bee's balm
        as tall as our shoulders and we wade
        through its rustle to see Lake Oswego
                on the other side and it is quiet sapphire
                        in our late afternoon --

You slip your shirt off and run to the edge
But stop short remembering:
        This lake
        This too-deep lake
And your tainted body --

You are ashamed now and will not look
        at me and we are so still in time
        our seconds sink at our feet;
I turn away, watching mallards wade
                in the rushes
As you dress again --

for

    once,

   i would

love

      to be

         the poem

and

     not

         the poet

You, common sunflower,
Yes, you, Helianthus,
Who takes a stand without his brothers
        in this fresh-cut field of golden hay
And bows his petalled head in reverent grace --

Teach us of living with no apologies
Saying "so what?" to wind and rain
And canoodling with the sun on cloudless days --

Yes, you, H. annuus,
In love with life from seed to bloom
Teach us how to dream in yellow
        and dwell in tune with Nature's
                jagged beauty --