I see through the confusion of the hour as the February wind rushes to fill a void with ominous power
The creatures of the world begin their toil
Cars stacked in tight rows , red , green , amber lights assume control
Tabs are paid , tabs are made , hot breakfast on neutral tables , neutral
dining halls  , neutral patrons
Painted roadways inflict order , revolving doors , crosswalk children
of gold , bakers mold loaves of bread in need of packaging , airplanes
stack upon concrete runway intersections ,  America's caste system swings into action* ...

Freezing in the shadow of a skyscraper
The newspaper collectors
Building tents to the ire of city government
"Lighting fires" to calm a cold crazed environment
The unaided dangerous , the unrecognized , 'the ignorant'
The belligerent , the political tool , the ticketed and the
arraigned*
The miffed , the rotten , the gifted , the forgotten
Spoiled  , the lofty , the will-do and their atrocity ...
Blame it on the Jews , point at the homosexuals ,
contain the Christians , foil Muslim aggression , the racist whites
the intolerant blacks , the free thinkers , the wall builders
The contained and the "pyromaniacs" ...

To rest beside wild spearmint -
on a mild winter's eve
With Hickory and Oak alive in sun and shadow , between puffs of cool crept patchwork red , gold leaves
A stick of grass to chew
Songbirds to view
Something positive , something alluring ,
Something new* ...

We gathered our water
and packs at daybreak
to hike hand in hand
toward the distant ruin—
a tall stone chimney planted
on otherwise empty acreage,
a kudzu-covered tower,
the ghost of a farmhouse
now a home to field mice,
black beetles and bats,
with bricks the color
of weathered blood,
vertebrae stacked
a century and a half ago
by a stonemason’s craft,
still solid and bonded
despite the slow decay
of arthritic mortar.

How long have we
walked together?

The morning
is all we have
left to ponder.
We walk for hours;
the chimney grows
larger at our approach.
I want to ask you
a question about
the night we met,
what you said
just before I held
you for the first time,
but then I catch sight
of my hand and realize
I am walking alone,
moving inexorably
toward a ruination
of my own making.
How could I have been
so careless? Unable
to stop, every step
strips something away:
my hair thins and falls,
as white and weak
as sickled wiregrass;
another step and my
body atomizes into
the stuff of stars,
pollen scattered
on a rising wind.

So this is what it
feels like to decay.

By the time I reach
the ruin I am mostly
cinder and ash,
a sorry vestige
sown in a quiet field,
a forgotten landmark
that strangers will visit,
if only to contemplate
how the evening fog
spindles like smoke
along the enduring
column of my spine.

That elusive thought
Danced merrily away
Into the recesses of its play

Mocking me with its glee
Prancing away without regret
Giving me no reprieve and stay

Soul searing, mind wearing
As my mind meanders
And limps through the fray

Across landscaped extravaganza
And deep inner turmoils
The demons do come up to prey

I plod on undeterred in my path
That wayward thought demon
I encounter, confront and slay!!

Look both ways
Stop before you cross
Remember the days
Forget about your flaws
Try on their shoes
Feel, they're souls
Spirits speak truth
Water fills my bowl
See through my eyes
Light bringing fire
Every star dies
Whirling black pyre
Burning bushes whisper
What I command of man
To do unto others
Whatever Good you can.