born in the artic snow
she chromed
her heart
in steel

flames could
not
touch that heart

always a half a step ahead
sure
a few stumbles
but never a fall

and moonlight is just
a heartache in disquise

till one day
leaning out a car window
a scar upon his cheek
and the luck of the draw

was the jack of hearts

and the queen of diamonds
had
never met
anyone
quite like

the jack

of hearts,

black-haired blue-eyed
her beauty inspired
stupid men
to commit foolish acts

and as he smiled
the queen of diamonds
thought she had

the jack of hearts,

blue sky shimmering
in her eyes

jack became
the brightness
of her day

and the jack of hearts
saw a flame
flickering in her eyes
that he had never seen
in any women's eyes
before ...
                
               act. 2

... a strange destiny
was unraveling
and one long poker hand
was over
and the snowflakes came
down like ashes
under the street light

and then
the jack of hearts
walked away

a pale spirit fleeing
a graveyard
into the wall of night

and the queen of diamonds
cried

the sea into sky

with eyes
like twilight
waiting

to eat away the day

The tides are at war
clashing in all directions
challenged by strong evening winds
trying not to be swayed

From dried souls
comes singed words
falling in ashes of barren meanings
scribes of cloudy sky
the warped oracles
offering parables from glazed sands
tardy ivory heads
in misty ivy dew
veiling the tower of Babel's dry tongues
in epoch of dunces
the age of lunacy
manias at lectern dance selves parodies
devoid of the ironies

Well
this isn't getting the grass cut
but
it's a lovely way to spend Sunday.

I have spent lots of Sundays,
at times
I wish I had saved a few
wish
I had spent more of them
with you.