Isn’t it strange
how in this brief exchange
of the creative impulse
we gain
a certain kind of intimacy
with each other
yet we never
smell each other
shake hands
breathe the same air
put up with personal idiosyncrasies
and off-putting voice inflections –
all the things our friends and loved ones have to.

Yet here we occupy hearts and minds
many of our friends and loves do not know
with such closeness, interiority, and connectedness.

What a strange and magnificent gift!

This fir is an old friend
She lends a punctual ear to no end
First shielding my body from the -
unforgiving Georgia sun then we
quietly face the beautiful ambiguity -
between dusk & dawn ...

I am darkness.
I wear the mask of sunny mornings
But dark shadows seep around the edges.

I am storm clouds.
I masquerade as blue sky days
But the cows out in the fields lay down.

I am a somber dirge
Though my speakers play a happy song
It’s always in a minor key.

I am tomorrow.
While I can’t untangle from today
I waft the scent of yesterday.
                     ljm

a sky of caring
a rabbit foot on a chain

two 6 packs
3 friends

take me back to the river
by the railroad tracks

and shelly
and keats
and junior kimbrough

take me back
to the river by the railroad tracks

and the flat pennies we held
in the palms of our hearts


fall
is a forgiving season

so take me back to the river by the tracks

where the river runs
deep
and wide
and the memories have souls

I stand here waiting as the river rushes by
Contemplating while clouds drift in the sky
The engine idles, the traffic speeds on past
Frozen in the moment before life’s icy blast

The spring’s wound down
The battery’s gone flat
No money in the meter
Only dregs left in the vat

Those restless waters never question why
And there’s freedom in the clouds for those that learn to fly
Wisdom piles up on the shores of broken dreams
Empty promises dashed and lashed to smithereens

The river rushes by
White noise fills my ears
Clouds drift in the sky
I rue the passing years.