within the solitude of the dreadful span
of the blackened and bowed sky
the deep withered grass bends in the moonless dark
quieting the cold and murmuring earth

hushing her into fitful sleep

the air is hard
and the wind lacerates the night
razor incisions left behind
in the icy flesh of obsidian hours

open wounds howl like wolves
on the trail of prey in flight

I hunger for you
under the restless stars

I close my eyes and I see you
As little more than a babe in arms
With the biggest gummy grin ever
Sitting on my knee and laughing
As you head-butted me in the chest
Pictures I'll never forget

And then the last time I saw you
Struggling to breathe and barely conscious
Tended by your loving wife
We'd said our goodbyes and "love yous"
We'd hugged when we still could
And I watched you dying of cancer

                               By Phil Roberts

On his way to or coming from
Feeding cows
Whistling or singing,
Orange twines tied in bows
Swinging above the tractor hitch.
Bales strewn broken in chunks
Across the hard white ground;
Cattle steaming in chill air
Stoking bellies with summer hay,
Against the cold their only coal to burn.

I'd rather he had fallen,
Smile upon his wizened face
Blue with cold, heart given way,
Just the way he'd prayed to go,
Than to have watched
The helicopter veer away
Into a frozen sky.

I sighed in the presence of a friend.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Life."  

"Hadn't you rather be thinking about your death?"

Words to live by....

Sitting at her feet
Folding chair angled
So I can hold her feet,
One at a time,
I find the old worn places:
Liver, spleen, colon
To apply pressure.

"Does that hurt?"
After she winces just a bit.

"A little," from pressed lips,
Eyes closed, she sighs.

The cancer showed up seven months ago;
Liver picked its tumor from the colon,
Grew a ball of poison.

Feisty would be too harsh a word
For this stubborn soul so
Obstinate, forceful, unrepentant....

Seeing her in such a helpless state,
Belly distended with cancer's bloat,
Puke cup nearby, and pain distorting.
Mind here and there, present and past,
Brings tears to us who have fought her,
Trying her and tried by her;
Those of us who have always loved her.

Gentleness has replaced the hardness;
Tenderness to listen and to tell,
Gone away the lifeblood's tempestuous swell.

The living room now dying room...
A waiting room kept busy to supply
Liquids and pills,
Foot rubs, soft questions:
Will you eat an egg?
Maybe a bite of avocado?
Bacon is good, even more now
In its thin saltiness slowly ******.

Phone calls and letters arrive,
Some rejected; some received
To lift and give a little light.

>crumbled, rumbled, street survivors,
paper scraps that took the rage abuse rap,
dead love notes, bills red with overdues,
these pre-poems have traveled wind currents
some in from Jersey, some hailing Minnesota,
ain't never see one that crossed the Atlantic,
but reckon it is not a theoretical impossibilty

unpretty city streets, like a museum, collects 'em,
plenty of exhibition space, forlon, historically
orphaned, disbanded, whose paths all got confused,
some sweet, all beat, balled and thrown, no home,
no more, each a reveille, each humming taps, now,
all scented by strret odors, none pleasant, each was
in its prior life, the meat, the grist, the meal of what
was, coulda been, a poem that would have survived
yellowed in care, tender glanced, tucked in books,
safekept, but slipped away, victims of friction, fraction

look down, be unafraid, unravel them slow, careful,
abused, all these messengers all need a good home,
a box in a closet, a book of tenders, witnesses to what
they've seen, places they've been, hand held, tenderized
by words spiced, variegated, ink, pencil, typewritten, like
their prior human authors, all sizes, all shapes, some on
colored paper, a l l astrayed, accidental, purposed, details
and detritus, once deemed essemtial, important, necessary
and needed, even believed, but times change

you're stuck, brain ain't cooperating, tired of staring inside
your self's self, pull on a sweater, it's a chilly spring overcast air,
that don't natural warm, more naturally warn, be careful where,
you step, your next poem is laying right there, grab a few, take
more than a couple, this is like a school dance, try a few, until
you bank the right one in the till, the connection made, a kiss,
in secret stolen, and the drive, the forces, the perspiration urgency
leads to you desk, nook, granny's cranny, and the world of words
overflow like seagulls in a harbor, so many spilling, hard is the
choosing, but excited adrenaline, free basing, in your veins and
****, you gotta just write again, right now, add a ***** poem
back to its rightful place in a heart, upon eyes, tongue taste them
syllables, clap and laugh as they symmetrically form, subtle rhyming,
the sleeping seeds have sprouted, the brown brain loamy cells,
fertile and potent, energize, impregnate, and you just can't wait
to walk the streets, in search of many, many more

it's ok, you have permission to utter a whispery nearly silent
hallelujah<