Friday, November 14, 2014

For Isabel tonight

there you are
in the moments
we refuse to avoid
there you are
at the start of
the foment, the noise
explaining to me
the need for a roar
there you are
when I call blindly
from a cell in my heart
there you are
in the darkness
there you are at the start
creep up on me
I don’t mind
we had that kind
of friendship
the ghosts still in transit
are jealous of us
there you are
in the night of
my simmering question
no answers you say
only direction
there you are
when I flounder
in boots still too tight
through dark underbrush
there you are in the light

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Sir Shadow

Sir shadow, you drunk
Sir Shadow, you mean
and crazy man
Sir Shadow, you hopeless shoe lacer
you angry defacer
Sir Shadow of mine
you black valentine
swing from the wing with a ghosty divine
Sir Shadow, you hopeless
reminder of loss
comic trickster of heaven
Byzantium’s loss is
a place where nothing of import
gives into dull hymns
or nudged the sweet need of sorts
Sir Shadow, it’s now
in the cinnamon dark

when I drink to the owl
to the falcon, the lark
and the music still hovers
like a family of sorts
Sir Shadow, the sum of 
my disparate parts
gets childy and needy and
begs for the stars
the  way to lace upward
the wayfaring boot
send me on to the place
and dig me my root