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 Dec 2014 LD Goodwin
CA Guilfoyle
Ecola park
misty rain of
late September
overlooking blue seas
a gathering of birds and flowers
wild ocean of
you and I
together

Today, far and away
beyond, we've gone
from one another
still there are days
listening for your name
strange how my garden blooms
lonely, bright colors of you
strange, watching petals fall
fading into winter
Dishes clang loud against the sink
Metal spoons bang white ceramic 
   Anger defies lifelong contract
Sacred and sealed with tears and tact
   Adhesive is this stone of hurt
Lumped solidly within her throat 
   No easy atonement comes forth
Nor minor distraction does soothe   
   Her rant gathers no audience
No recall of what stoked this fire
A revision of "Anger in the Kitchen" Written in eight syllable lines.
I take the last boat on the Icchhamati River.

the huddled shadows in the gloam
talk of home
a waiting bed
before climbs the moon overhead.

In little comforts voices bask
amid oars sloshing the night
and  I brood in silence
neath the  northern star

how far is home
how far?
Another time the stars will seize  you
parading your aspirant hopes,
first touch still bristles
that earlier shine, while not quite alone
for seeds of dreams will broaden your shoulders,
walking taller than your beckoning.
As a child I laughed
Arms out, bounding in the surf
Seals calling my name
My world was bright, fresh and free
I knew not shame nor envy
Tanka
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