Marriages as long as ours
Should be cast in stone.
When she left me
Anger filled my life.

I broke the things she loved.
Just to hurt her I suppose.
The wedding pictures
In the glass frames

Later in remorse
I put them in
the bedroom drawer

Now I just ache
to see her.
Just to hear her voice.
Not to persuade her to return
It's too late for that I know.

In despair  I retrieve
Her pictures from the drawer.
I try to smooth the creases
In the photographs.
As if it could
Smooth the creases
She has left in my life

There's a magic
about the springtime.
It pretends to be new
full of rebirth
.but it is not.

Even the Ancient maples
Bursting in Bud and syrups
Hangs fat with knowledge
Full to the brim  of memories.

The returning starlings
Knowing where they live.
Cry a crescendo of yesterday.

Sometimes as the moon glows
On forgotten pathways
in my garden.
I hear their secrets
I see their memories

And the ice grip of winter
Is melting in my heart.
And I see you
Once more visiting Springs song.
The light of  my heaven
Beneath a blossoming tree.

women… .go figure

She tripped me up in junior school
I grazed both my knees
Had to see the nurse.

At Halloween
she broke into my locker
And stole my candy stash.

She copied my math homework
And Got me an F.

Later she told my first date
At the prom I was gay.
Just trying to look straight.

I married  her last week
If that's all she wanted
Why on earth
Didn't she say so.

Spring  fever

in the first blush of a waking springtime
The warming rays of the long lost sunshine
Touch my face like a mother's kiss.
At my feet an army of  purple Crocuses
Defiant of winter standing. *****
with the pride of survival.

Squirrels frolicing in joyous enjoyment
Of a renewal of all loved things
including  their own species.

My wife joins me in
celebration of the springtime.
I touch her hair softly
Her smile as warm as the sunshine.
Our unspoken intimacy promises
A return to the flesh.

I imagine how good her hair it will feel
Flowing upon by bare chest.
We look at each other differently
Not as those labels
Like mother and father
Or husband  and wife
But as the people who could not
Get enough of each other
When we first met.

I see our  children playing
In the fresh air.
The youngest  as fresh
as the spring itself.

And I know that in some far off springtime
When I do not have work so hard
Just to make ends meet
and the children are grown up.

She will touch my hair gently
as she does.
And ask me
Were youhappy back then.
My love.
I will say to you
Yes my love
So happy
So very happy.

The knife wound of loss
Awakens me from the
tranquility of sleep
Outside my window
A sleeping world watched over
by the guardianship
Of a constant moon.

The only companion this night
The nocturnal whip poor will
Lavender wisps its faint remaining
Fragrance from your pillow.
Loneliness amplified by the night
Grips my heart like a vice.

The afterlife wears a secret shroud.
Please tell me it exist I pray.
Only the answer from
the whip poor will
Filling my ears
Never tell
Never tell
Never tell

This nights air is purified by silence
Autumns cold kiss touches my face
Hearts are filled with the pungent
Odors of all things ending.

A palid sad sky
Becoming the backdrop
Of the swarming starlings
Curving ever changing lissajous
Shapes in impossibly complex
Mathematical formulas.

The signals of winter
Are everywhere.
And my spirit is in mourning
For a summer scorned.

In silvered stillness inside this light
Stars cluster dreams this perfect night.
Haunting nightsong brings delight
Lovers sleeping in heavens sight.

The measured rhythm  of our sighs
Gossamer dreams behind closed eyes
In sleep we celebrate  our love
In peaceful tribute from above..