If I could open my eyes
I would see you walking in the snow
If I could open my arms
I would see you walk into them
If I could open my hands
I would catch the sorrow of your drowning tears
If I could open my heart
I would fill yours with the sun.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Forensics
I cannot walk away
and stop the digging up
the swab of past evidence
of my life.
I cannot stop
childhood files,
I search through them looking for my facts
my height, my tendency to run away,
isolated incidents
I dig,
the archaeology of my own breath
unclassified matches
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Dream
He has changed
from looking down into the dust
making no eye contact
to a walk with purpose
a taxi ride, a uniform
a purpose, working days at the Magaliesburg Co op
he asked for a letter for the bank
'This is to certify proof of residence'
days become easier to swallow
bank account stamp approval, twenty two years later
approval for a life beyond days of failure,
trees and leaves become valuable again
He sees himself, as someone, for the first time.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Paper Dolls
There is a constant certainty in the chain
there is a knowledge
that there will never be loneliness
a smiling paper cutout solitaire
lost in an odds and ends basket
without a hand
There will always be five in a row
holding hands
connected, perhaps unaware
holding the pattern, folding together as one.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
circa 1989
A particular scene
she is happy
with a band of goodwill
geese, one in particular
circling a rock pool
A weber barbeque
he is going to cook a chicken
there is a sought out special found, their home
there is a mother, apron, long hair
A peacock call from the roof
a father, turning potatoes on the fire
laughing , for once, happy
a sister following another sister, walking
on toes, laughing joke the antichrist
following Nicodemus the duck
hot breathing green filled grace given
Solitary,
our stamp album
of the world wide Christmas card
long eulogizer
a stamp on the life of the this world
our imprint
us
children'
mothers'
fathers'
caught in a moment,
captured
preparing, for a special night
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Corner
Walking, back tired blunt away
mist eyed confused by the present
waiting, holding my breath like an underwater animal
unused to daylight oxygen
I am walking
waiting
the hope of that past, erased in a fire
in a storm, in the recent rain
under the earth
forgotten, buried
cutting out, paper cuts,
all I see..waiting for you
is the better light
and a clear view
a different tinted recollection.
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