for the fog
#atone #bodies #capecod #dreams #ethereal #floating #fog #forgetting #massachusetts #newenglandcoast #northtruro #seafog
Between the keys. Between the chords. Between the notes. Between the sound you make
Your rare, cured leaves of being. Beautifully steeping in these years of living. Bringing to your senses rich
As I awakened to this morning, eyes still closed, I was thinking of you, long-gone Mom and Dad,
A frosted cake layered with cars and people, rosetted with gulls, points out toward quiet afternoon islands.
Remember that one day you, too, will die. Will cease being here, in body, in breath. Will join all those
Quite a sight to behold: a woman of sun, reclining on the grass, in a meadow, abundantly recumbent, hair and limbs lush with heat
The only thing warm tonight in the deep winter sky ~ and soon to occlude. The Wolf Moon, Ice Moon, Old Moon.
How deeply are you living, friend? How sense-deep. How heart, and
Sunny jaunts, now-and-again treats, with cousins, siblings; and parents along but somehow invisible.
After you uncork him and he appears in a serpentine of white smoke. Before he grants you
It arrives on a warm white cloud. It arrives on soft rolls of ocean waves along a sand pebbled shore. It arrives on a bed
Blonde head under baobab. Sun under shade. You sit on an African day,
Those many, sung and unsung, who gave themselves, often gave up their lives, to fight, in wars,
Be still now with the Earth. Still with the Sun, the Land, Sea
The Maine woods. The coastal woods. Where coming into Spring he resides, is at home. Where he keeps a fire burning