Just when you think
the road leads to nowhere
crops up the moss veiled house

its crumbling bricks make greyer
the sky with the hush of twilight
and you rue with melancholy
the night under its roof assigned for you

but the old man like a seasoned spider
lets you forget you're trapped for the night
to his web spun from timeworn earth
as you stare engrossed upon his face
outlined by glowworm sparks

he recounts it was all marshland
he grew into bowl of harvest
and how he was blessed with
the most beautiful woman on earth
then reaching the crescendo
his words thin into whispers
when he tells you his two poor eyes
were not enough to hold her beauty
so she putting a stone on her heart
spread wings on a night like this

the cornfield wilted
he wizened into an endless wait
with gracious death saving his bones
to lighten his heart to a stranger
who comes alone.

I am no rock
my heart
is not made
of tiny bits
of stone
it will not
be crushed
like a pile
of ground-up bone
it might be
washed upon
shores
like the most
miniscule of
treasures
found in sand,
unseen to
naked eye
yet so full of
iridescent magic
in a spectrum of colors
a secret world
unto its own
those almost
invisible shapes
jeweled corals
of earth
up from
sea  bottom
in foamy
rebirth
but I will take it
(yes, my heart,
in rawness
and thunder)
and hold it
and nurse it
before it goes under
I will rock it
and soothe it
before it calcifies
as the ocean
invites endless
salt from
my
eyes

Far into the night
I spied a long dead star
like that dark light
I saw through the pane
of your window,
like a signal for me
that it was all clear now
to move on to another exile,
another woman, another
island to banish myself,
another liaison with dawn.

years absorb days
waiting for life's word -
moment when
creaking doors open
providing peace

days follow night
dank dismissive disdain
lone refrain soaking
soft dark soil
inviting release

was it in snow's soft folds
stark charcoal sketches
scratching sheets of white

or garish cacophony of
rude spring's play

maybe summer's
hedonistic obsession
bursting searing blight

or praps the weeping fall
resigned to decay

no... not there
not anywhere 'out there'

one day it ceased
incessant primordial
wail for absent breast
laid bare

grow up
stand tall
forgive
outlive

undo the latch
let newness breathe
let go lament and
choose to Live!

By marrying me, my wife proved
That she, had a lot of guts
Because
If it wasn’t her, then someone else for sure
That I’d be driving nuts
WIZDUMBs BY JA 391