First thing every morning
On these cold, dark days
Amidst the bare branches
Above the fallen leaves

They bring something wondrous
I’m not sure how to name it
But I know it like my breath

Seeing them there
Little bits of heat
Hearts beating wildly
Warms mine as well

Emily said it best
Hope’s a thing with feathers

A traitor’s kiss
A child’s return
A fighter’s fist
Ecstasy’s burn

None of these
Can claim the prize
Each knee shall bow
That all might rise

The pasture steams with dusky fog
The poet dreams of his dead dog
The fall of day the rise of night
The people pray that wrong be right

Tiptoe cross the dampened leaves
Listen for nocturnal life
Soak it up and soak it in
Silence is the only sin

Hear the drip and hear the drop
Frost has come and now the rot
Kingfisher sings crazy song
The people pray that right be wrong

Looking over lily pads
Green floats over slate grey sky
Dragon climbs out the lake
Now is time to do or die

You see them oft this time of year
As earth turns dark and cold
Bugs dancing a frenetic pace

What drives them crazy? Is it fear
Of dying ‘fore they’re old
Being omega of their race?

When evening comes so fast and hard
When surface becomes too still
Sky purple/pink with blood

Are they like me once playing cards
Hoping time to ****
Houseman’s cow contented with its cud?

Rhymed to death before its time
By A.E.’s most depressing verse
Assuring though we die, that we die old

Why do we insist on rhyme
That life’s a blessing, death a curse-
A lie the the poets have forever told

So little bugs, please stop and listen
No need to be like Mirthridades
All one must do is to be still and know

Be still and let your cold death christen
Peace in Heaven and in Hades
You don’t have to go on with the show

Eastern Shore

How many poems have I penned
Of this same sunset scene?
What drives my muse to sacrifice
At this altar again?

Lies there some ancient meaning here
That my poor words forsake?
Why do I gasp in awe-filled gaze
Across the mirrored lake?

The last of light flees up the trees
From water into green
And grabs my soul all unawares
And speaks of in between.

Of how there is no certainty,
No solid place to stand,
The only constant, constant change-
How all is shifting sand.

I beg the dying light not leave
I beg the sun stand still
I beg Time’s sands not sift through sieve
I beg Kali not ****

All those prayers go unfulfilled
The night swallows the day
The golden light that each leaf thrilled
Must Hades’ curse obey

Yet as I rage for light I lack
For all the beauty gone
I see a palette of pure black
To paint Orion on

What peace from knowing nothing’s staid
What consecrated bliss!
False idol Permanence betrayed
By sun’s last Judas kiss.

All written because someone died
Or feared the empty hole
Nothingness personified
Talk of heart and soul

Foolish patter in the wind
Whistling in the dark
Yet when we reach that bitter end
Bite is far worse than bark

A subject one cannot ignore
An object lesson learned
“Not yet!” the anguished do implore
Dispensation spurned

A thousand lines to heal the hurt
A thousand doubts remain
The quick remain to feel the quirt
Cling to the old refrain

Faith has brought me safe thus far
Faith will lead me home
But is the answer truly found
In any ancient tome?

Poetry to soothe the sting
Syrupy as molasses
Sweet bye and bye of which we sing
****** of the masses?

Job was poetry they say
As was much of the Bible
When darkness falls we seek a way
A fable or a foible?

Job perhaps has said it best
Explained it all by half
The reason for the final test
Is God’s hilarious laugh

Take this paper written on
Use it to light the fire
Pile the many others on
Make all death poems’ pyre.

Mine-
A hole in the dirt
Begging one dig deeper
No matter what the cost

Yours-
Such a joyous word
Laughing as it gives away
What can n’er be lost