Sunday, March 30, 2008

The Visit

I met loneliness today.
He was wearing a powder blue uniform
and playing a trumpet
or maybe it was a violin

I wanted to introduce you to him.
But when I looked for you
I saw you were on the phone
smiling and laughing in your quiet way.

So we sat together outside
in old chairs weathered and worn
he seemed rather uncomfortable there
and smiled sadly as he asked me if he could smoke.

He played a melody for me
said it was something he composed
on a rainy afternoon in Buffalo
while chain smoking and drinking tea

When he finished he just sat and stared
I noticed how haggard and tired he looked
I asked him if he wanted to lie down and rest
he squeezed my knee and said, “no time.”

I suppose it’s hard doing what he does
moving from place to place
while keeping the rhythm steady
and the tempo in perfect harmony

Then he was gone
as fast as ice cream melts in the sun
I guess he didn’t want to miss his next gig
and staying in one place just isn’t his style.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

For Carrie (1983-2008)

Today there are no words...
or at least the words have no meaning
they fall on deaf ears, empty prattle,
chaff that the wind blows away.

My friend's daughter was murdered two days ago...her bright and shining life stolen from her family and friends by a senseless act of violence...there are no words...

Monday, March 17, 2008

buried treasure

There must be a way to hold on to it...

it was there briefly, shining brightly

or at least I thought so

then it was gone,

covered by a ton of matter.

last Tuesday it was here

insubstantial and fragile

much like delicate butterfly wings

floating on a summer breeze

perched above me for a split second.

Then there was that time last year

when I sat perfectly still

like a lake with no ripples

hoping for it to find me

it passed by without even a glance

I tried digging in the mud

like hunting for buried treasure

scooping piles of dirt over my shoulder

finding only rocks and stones

and a rubber boot left there last spring

It’s not like I can’t live without it

but a small sliver of it would be nice

to hold in my hand

and wrap myself in at night

just to hear it whisper my name to the moon.