They left you on a shelf
Beneath the bricks and a cloudy sky
As we waited for your date with a field of grass.
The gentleman who dressed you was nice enough
And he rolled you out when I arrived to say “Good-bye”.
You rested in the center of the room
As I recalled the plastic flowers
On our dining room table years ago.
All of us plus Pops and Nana too
Thanking God for all His gifts
And the Sunday meals you made.

And this as well.
On a beautiful summer day
You put on a white blouse and skirt
And took me to the blueberry fields.
You laughed as I pretended to take
A broken drum
Out the door for the berries.
Then you sang a song just for us
As cool breezes charmed my senses
While goodness found mercy
Next to a stream and gave a little boy
A picture that would last until now.

This morning I went to Starbucks
After watching the river at dawn,
Immersed in making photos with pastel shades of sky
And bushes that seemed blue in the early morning air.
I ordered coffee
To awaken my frozen limbs
And a blueberry scone.
The berries are sweet.
I find them more delicious
Than chocolate
Or wine.

How is it possible
    We are here today?
    I remember silence
    Before you sighed
    And opened up my world.
    Now the wind is all around my heart
    And sand enfolds your lovely feet
    Past and future moments disappear  
    As we fly
    With many eyes
    And wings upon the current.
    They will find our shoes
    And echoes of our cries
    Between the waves
    Children running on the beach
    And days we cannot number.

I thought about your wings today
Your carefree laughter
Sun bleached hair
Floating from a tree
Over there.

Sitting here
I leave the windows open
Curtains twisting
Recalling tastes like wine
Decanting you inside.

Amber headlights
Through the night
Timber strobes
Make me uptight.

I wait for you to ring.

And will not shout
For anything
But writhe
Upon this bed  
Chasing ghosts
Inside my head.

Joining you
So soon instead.

There is a moment
    When sunlight bathes the trees
    And your thoughts
    My dear, dear friend
    Invade me.

    You seem to love the morning
    When our room is cool
    And paper, pen and attitude
    Anchor an old fool
    Bowing  fore  your witness
    Reaching out for lines
    Winding towards your inner life
    And sketching it in rhymes.
    So soft your silent whispers
    But clear and hardly grave
    Patiently you  elevate
    These aging earthbound ways.
    Why such generosity
    Beloved friend of messy me?
    Perhaps. . .
    When time is near an end
    And meeting on a star
    You will share your name
    Down here and how
    I knew you then.
    Until that  day when music plays
    Around and through our souls
    We  grasp the air and strain
    To hear the cadence of your strolls
    As we hope to be so still
    And clearly hear your voice.
    So busy we remain
    Both supplicants and prey
    Chasing our discordant days
    Contradictions near  your side
    As sunlight bathes the morning trees
    With songs of immortality.
    May we always walk  afar
    Singing with a morning star
    Reuniting earth with heaven
    Brothers in this  house forever.

I cannot fly today
Yet perhaps last night
We flew between the stars
Who can tell?
Tomorrow will no doubt
Be like today
But not always
Not everlastingly so.
I sew the scenes
Of our escape
While sitting here tonight
Sleepily concealed
In this weighted room
And happily involved
In inward visions
Of eventual flight.
Please pardon
My distraction.
I am so immersed
In a solitary search
For solar satisfaction.

The evening has left us
Quietly to ourselves.
I watch you move before the mirror
Releasing all the catches and the stays
The predictable moments and habitual ways
Until a lamp light soft reveals
Your moving presence and my cautious appeal.
Can I reach the glistening  in your eyes
And hold you in my arms?
A prayer weaves its way
Above
As we explore
The promises of love.