Aubade

And so it stays just on the edge of vision,
A small unfocused blur, a standing chill
That slows each impulse down to indecision.
Most things may never happen: this one will,
And realization of it rages out
In furnace-fear when we are caught without
People or drink. Courage is no good:
It means not scaring others. Being brave
Lets no one off the grave.
Death is no different whined at than withstood.

Slowly light strengthens, and the room takes shape.
It stands plain as a wardrobe, what we know,
Have always known, know that we can't escape,
Yet can't accept. One side will have to go.
Meanwhile telephones crouch, getting ready to ring
In locked-up offices, and all the uncaring
Intricate rented world begins to rouse.
The sky is white as clay, with no sun.
Work has to be done.
Postmen like doctors go from house to house.
~ Philip Larkin

Black birds

Black birds pace the fields,
waiting patiently like Spanish widows.

~From Self Portrait by Adam Zagajewski

from the train window

a lone heron
picking through the clouds-
rainy pond

Rain

gravedigger
when you dig my grave
could you make it shallow
so that i can feel the rain
~~~~~~Gravedigger, Dave Matthews Band.
Listening to DMB on a rainy day and drinking coffee is close to perfection.

Truth

We don't know what we want, but we are ready to bite somebody to get it.
~Will Rogers

Train ride

I always stepped off the escalator
And into your arms
The Vietnamese station-master
always watching
One day you were late.
He laughed
Said
“he left you. Why don’t you
come home with me?”
I laughed too.
Not many moons later
He saw me again
Step off the escalator
Into no one’s arms
Started to laugh
Then he saw my eyes.
I said
“this time you’re right.”
This time he didn’t laugh
And neither did I.

Had I told the sea

In the summer
I stretch out on the shore
And think of you
Had I told the sea
What I felt for you,
It would have left its shores,
Its shells,
Its fish,
And followed me.

Nizar Qabbani, In the Summer

Bearhug

Griffin calls to come and kiss him goodnight
I yell ok. Finish something I'm doing,
then something else, walk slowly round
the corner to my son's room.
He is standing arms outstretched
waiting for a bearhug. Grinning.

Why do I give my emotion an animal's name,
give it that dark squeeze of death?
This is the hug which collects
all his small bones and his warm neck against me.
The thin tough body under the pyjamas
locks to me like a magnet of blood.

How long was he standing there
like that, before I came?

~Bearhug, Michael Ondaatje

When death shall cut him short

Happy the hare at morning
for she cannot read
The Hunter’s waking thoughts.
Lucky the leaf
Unable to predict the fall. ...
But what shall man do, who can whistle tunes by heart,
Know to the bar when death shall cut him short, like the cry of the shearwater?

~WH Auden

Change

moving day--
favorite pigeon on the kitchen ledge
one last time

Blue smoke

darkness at six-
smell of cherry tobacco
from my father's pipe

~During those long winter evenings, Dad sits in his lounge chair and smokes. He also does the crossword everyday despite not being the best speller among us. Of course he does the crossword even in the summer.
But in winter, when the blue smoke curls out of his pipe and his brow furrows in concentration, the house seems warmer.

Being in Love

Being in love with you is crucial. Everything depends upon it.

In summer, being in love with you is red, raw and delicious.

In winter it is blue, lucent, and shimmers when touched.

Being in love with you is to forget
For a moment the use of fruit:

It is to stare long at the splendour
Of a green pear
On a white porcelain plate.

~From "Being in Love" by Michael Londry

One of those days

Tonight the lamplight swirls and glistens
Melting itself upon my face
I'm hanging my silhouette near the shoreline
I'm swimming underneath in the noontime

~"Melting Alone" by Sixpence None the Richer.

last lily

corner florist--
last lily in his pail
sold for a kiss

~This came in eleventh in an online haiku competition. It was thrilling because the other poems were of very high standards.

yellow polka dots

divorce court
she offers his lawyer
her polka dotted umbrella
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your sense of association is commendable

"I saw a much tattered kitten, one that looked like it had lost a fight with a rat, a black and white one.
Reminded me of you."

Thank you. It's a good thing that so many different things remind people of me.
I think.

The Taxi

When I go away from you
The world beats dead
Like a slackened drum.
I call out for you
against the jutted stars
And shout into the ridges of the wind.
Streets coming fast,
One after the other,
Wedge you away from me,
And the lamps of the city prick my eyes
So that I can no longer see your face.
Why should I leave you,
To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night?

~By Amy Lowell. I like the feeling of poignancy captured in this poem without saying much at all. The description of the stars as "jutted" and the "ridges of the wind" is so haunting.

A trailer by the sea

She says, "Baby, I been thinking 'bout a trailer by the sea.
We could go to Mexico...
you, the cat and me.
We'll drink tequila and look for sea shells.
Now, doesn't that sound sweet?"

~From "Jessie" by Joshua Kadison. Such an idyllic life painted in 4 lines...