One can be beat or one can learn the beat
And dance the rhythm where the hold is sweet.
For the vice, the yoke, the bond holding time;
Is any one’s always just me and mine.
So hard to call Continue reading →

Oh, this living without is so within
Memories alone call the horses home;
Breath, ever-breathless, rides a longing wind.
They’re gone–my Love, loves, my dogs, comrades, too:
Daily companionships once close at hand,
Gone in obits and places far away. Continue reading →

My house is full of everything imaginable.
Plus a few extra strange things like really old books.
And the gas, electric, water systems are filled.
My fridge is full; even have money in the bank
That comes regularly like the Continue reading →

I’ve decided to be simple today
And say only what I can say today.
Today’s my day to be myself all day
As if I simply-really know the way
To breathe and keep the death sentence at bay.
Oh, my Continue reading →

[In West Milford WV there is a little street, off the main drag, called Paradise Lane. One imagines such a place where such as Buber felt the reciprocal BOP touch of hand and horse and “found” his concept of Continue reading →

ONCE — I’VE BEEN TO HEAVEN’S REUNION

I’ve been to Heaven, been to Paradise–
Strolled Elysian Fields holding Love’s hands.
That Eternal Now of All still alive —-
Family Fluxions of Angel Wings,
Chalice-stirred Overflows of Communion,
Alchemic Elixirs of Continue reading →

MY, HOW EVERY NOW AND THEN AGAIN,

EACH THINKS OF WHAT COULD AND SHOULD HAVE BEEN.

CATCHING OUR BREATH, WE PAUSE O’ER PRECIPICES TO PONDER

HOW FLOWERS GROW WITH STONES IN WANTS OF WONDER,

HOW DEWS, STORMS, AND SUNS SHINING Continue reading →

Dear Ones — you who fly-away too soon

And you, Brave Hearts, who watched them go

Yet carry-on past the crying.

Oh, I sing your double-song,

Bow my body down

To hold the weight of your sorrows

Then to rise Continue reading →

To Sleep and to Wake — that’s the Magic Game.
I can’t now conceive of myself as dead
As each morn I wake-up still much alive
From a sleep that augurs some night the last.
We chance our gambol where Continue reading →

…Loves Gone Friends Gone…

Toned-Tinctures Tuning the Blue of the Sky

Many Family and Folks-On-The-Fly

Missing Passed-On in the Great-Bye&Bye

Obits Say Their Sage on Many-A-Page

What’s not Gone from Passage

Is lots of Time Now — Alone —

That Continue reading →