November Noticed 2026

New Work Pending

October Pages 2009– Selected passages from Sometime Grief (barks up the wrong tree) 2012

In a forest of

missing moments

where silence

sticks slicing time

detains the daily drain

to whisper just before

the feet of Fall

one chilly scarlet

morning kiss

bestows upon the tall lush

green to infect with

gray invades the scalp.

The dead giveaway of seasons

yet in transition

but for you for the first time

truly yourself now diminishing

their everyday in the flesh.

The expiration date expressed

as clearly in numerical terms

as on any common calendar page

Then only the wishful thinking

of speculation in the power of faith

implies eternal reward in lieu

of the chilling possibility

the prospect of being

no more

Total extinguishment

of self

beyond perhaps mortal comprehension

You are gone.

Not enduring

Not returning

merely over

Gone.

And if the concept of infinity

endows the faithful with such endurance

then the Cannon of the common

is where the mortality of fate

and all its earthly symbols of meaning go to die

mocking the concept of eternal reward

while left to swing

on a shadowy exit gate.                                                     10/1/09

Seen

When you have seen that light

escape to gush from the center

of her eyes

will there ever be any memory

to endure deeper or longer

ever again.

Where nights have been lush

in lingering limited

to those speechless dreams

wordless recall

dawning much like her light

came gradually alone

in the very heart of the seasons transitions

alive with soft gentle air

Funnels of Sound

pulsate in pronounced rhythmus

gyrate wind corkscrews

cutting cones in you that burrow permanently

See time before the dance of past tense

in a single elucidative thought

promising release

but more insuring you will

never forget the incarceration

of her eyes

awaking and gaining light

like the morning dawn.

                                                           10/09

Bright

Yellow weeping Willow

hangs her head

caught in the corner of my eye

waving goodbye

Long finger hang limp

strum the empty heaving air

moving in the tentacle string wind.

Cascading color

tangled water crest fallen

as stray estranged leaves

scurry across black gold

While the adjacent playground

is deserted of children

today

A lone fire hydrant

squats silently chipped red

not playing

not playing

at all

today.                                                                                                               10/10