The Memory of a Morning

a memory I lay out before me:

of sunlight slant
and bedroom morning air
accenting the syllables
of manifold beauties pronounced

oh how the delicate turnings
of phrase in a face's form
may suggest, may evince
untellable loveliest things
of the fount of the woman who spoke!

I read her all and studied with care
the execution! the eloquence!
well-said! well-said! I honored her motion
her rhyme
and pleased to so bring in the day

but alas! our days have nights
and our springs their inverdant winters
that we might love the days and springs the more
that by our missing we might gain them
better next we met

thus duty called her forth from our new home
and I sought shortly with intent
with gifts to bid my fluent darling part

but time withheld its favor from my design
and winter's night came harsh and early
to the sound of crashing worlds

and there stood I for a moment
mid-road
slack-jawed and bloodless
with a flower and a banana in my hand

the busy world of r. scary

heavy heavy heavy, hangs over your head
looms over your bed
enshrouds you with lead

tight tight tight, draws up your heart
pulls on your scarf
and squeezes your arm

round round round, my entangled mind
run shadows of times
love left behind

light light light, enters my eyes
simple words guide
and lay heartache aside:

on a solid rock I stand
all other ground
is sinking sand, sinking sand.
sinking sand that swallows.