Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Mourners Come and Go


 


Mourners
come and go,
come and go.

The ones I know
sit alone in
separate rows.

We're all of us
alone as we come
and as we go

to and fro,
to and fro,
alone, alone,

all, all alone
as we come,
as we go.

Thursday, June 12, 2014

Morning, Royal


         Photo credit unknown Internet source. (Please let me know if it is yours.)



Morning, royal
the finest time of day.   
Sitting at my work,
I watch and wait
for the world to show her
magic: trees not trees
and then, they are.
Looking from my book,
already I see leaves
now greenish,
in the time to form these words, 
now golden glow.
Alchemy: darkness into leaden grey to gold.
Above the hills, azure sky.
Time for me, too, to turn,
my finer self dissolved by morning light, 
into baser things:
earth and air to
breath and blood.
Transmuted in the dark,
I turn, return, to clay 
in brighter light of day.