The bride and groom are positioned in the hall.
A father locks hands with the daughter
And remembers her birth.
Outside a jet streaks
Across the cloudless sky -
Leaving contrails.

This wedding gown weighted down
Like a train positioned
On a track;
Allows for easy movement in one direction -
Forward not back.

Toasts, familiar laughter, conversations
And the din of dessert forks searching
For the next bite will echo a lifetime
Like moments that flash
Into snapshots of memory.

Father, daughter, mother
Embrace on the landing in a moment
Of celebration and breath a sigh.
The conductor calls and checks his watch
As time will have his way.

Time shook
And the shadows hummed
An ancient cicada song
Their heavy red eyes aware
The open iron gate clanging
In the wind - off beat.
After you were gone
There was no wasted breath -
No echoes.
No footsteps searching
Just emptyness
Like a two gallon stone crock
Drained.

I see you sitting on the back porch chair
Under the kitchen window
Where light crept and moved upon your hair  

The air is heavy and I cannot move -
The heavy limbed dream
I see you sitting on the back porch chair

My arms ache under the weight
The hermit thrush beak open is frozen too
Where light crept and moved upon your hair

No morning songs or alarms  for you
And the elm tree roots search the earth
I see you sitting on the back porch chair

And the weight of the air around me
Like an orb weavers web in morning dew
Where light crept and moved upon your hair

And the dragon fly spirals out
Of the heated upwards draft where
I see you sitting on the back porch chair
Where light crept and moved upon your hair

Too lonely for a seat
I can't face all these grey clouds
That's why I'm walking on a back street.
Walking through my universe with
Sawdust on my bare feet and
My back to the shaded sun -
My foot tap - tapping to the
Drum beat.

Only hearts and lonely souls can
Smile at this sluggish mist yet
Disaster strikes and darkness rolls
I wonder on and clinch my fist.

Too deep to fly,
Too sad to cry
"Such horror and pity and pain"
My only hope is to say goodbye
To my great friend the sluggish sky.

If I stay down or rise above
Will I ever find the back street?
Will I ever hear the drum beat?

Or is the sky my only gain -
A place to find myself
And wash my hands in the
Dark rain.

You deserve another minute
For laughter
More time for giggles
Another hug, bed time stories,
Silly tickles
Dancing in the window frame
Through thunder storms and turning rain
Quick outside a blue jay sang

Your ballerina toe tip your tiny
foot slipped
Into a final pirouette
Hair brushed warm and bathtub wet

Across the room your waiting bed
Is restless for your dreaming head
As the blue jay cries and flies from there
One more sunrise cries your silent stare

Twilight blue rebounds behind
A great ridge of color
Calling for man
To stand before the night

From a distance
Quiet but restless
The brazen foliage always falls
Darkness follows every time

I made my bed
From the mud of the mire
Covered it with bramble
Thick brush and harsh brier.

I became alien and remote
Closed my eyes and my senses
Placed my head on the pillow
And dreamed of high fences.

I shrouded my body from
The cold with rough linen
Tore rocks from the ground
And fortified my prison.

Those whom I loved
Were thrown far away
And I cried at their leaving -
I begged them to stay.

And my window distorts the light
Of the sun reaching out to stir nature awake.
The bay laurel trees are trimmed and fragrant.
The house sparrow lays her three eggs
While the wind blows and spiders release their silk
And take flight.
The drone bees stage and wait for their queen to fly by over
The dust and pollen colored porch chairs we purchased last summer.

Your one O'clock
Charade and temper fought
Parade masked by the
Cicada chorus and outside
Scuffling feet.
I break down.
I break because
You are strong - a Roman arch
building my memory.

If this is a dream
I'll safely resign heavens promise and walk blind
Through the open door where a raven scatters
The noiseless song birds.
Their feathers fall in place where
A corner table cools under the porch.

Summer was our friend so
I have to close the door -
I am tired of trying to impress your shade.

I walked into your house.
The still air, silence,
And dust in the sunlight
Reminds me of the room
A grieving mother refuses to clean.
It's easy to see you
Didn't plan on dying.
Your grocery list waits on the counter
Amid your notes and written reminders.
You placed plates and cups in the sink
To wash later.
And the stacks of books you planned
To read cover the floor
Near a broom leaning against
The kitchen table.