It's going to go on,
for years.
T-cell hurricanes
eye these vital days
graft vs. host no more

no more crying (for now)
time stopped before a cure
when flowers, trees, rainbow birds
visited past autumn's hour
to gaze upon an empty feeder

a stolen picture of youth
pinned upon a naked wall
a serious face looking back
as though to say, "If I,
in morning wake, it's a good day!"

-cec

no ordinary love is love
plucked from a Mimosa tree
in pink with tips of yellow pollen
that charms crow on wire's talons
to leap in flight when no else calls
as though heart itself were sun

-cec

We
howled and howl at the moon!
you did not condescend
or turn into a hairy wolf
you talked of life and love
and how to mend steel tendons
How
we will miss you, not eating
withering away like fall leaves
while the sky cries tears of rain
your voice getting faint in the wind
as your presence like mountains loom
Grandpa
we who love you cannot bear
our thoughts are past sad
our hearts are heavy with losing
though you have always born
and reborn us in you

-cec

Honey from thyme ―
sun shimmies summer's morning
stirring the mind's hive to its labors
shifting leg's chores to the wing
in flight of floating aerial lines
to plot of pink and purple anchorage

no silk to swing upon its travail
dear bee, fueled by golden cakes
aviates air's curves and troughs
in one sixtieth of an arc degree
of its calculated tiny soul
as plot of pink and purple anchorage

then angles promenade in mid-day sail
their dance transmit the call
an exponential 'pas de deux' channeled
through ancestral ***** music
to nourish generational ascent
anchored in this pink and purple thyme

-cec