A delicious taste of the
oatmeal raisin cookie
intrigue as a favorite kind
indulge in a hungry craving
for a sweet tooth of desire
from a grandma’s baking
permeate kitchen stage
fills with emotional display
that comes with a wide
an array of special
made for a guest's visit
A cup of chocolate milk
given add to a perfect match
for the lunch snack treat
at the spending moment
It embraces the heart with joy
elated smile put on a face
a lullaby song to play

"Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass..."
~ William Wordsworth

The trees have blossoms
of pastel bangles and lace ribbons.
I am lying within the splendour in the grass,
surrounded by naive hyacinth and lily of the valley.
A yellow warbler quickens back and forth, its song
stirring the air, flirting with a jealous breeze
as the ambiance of April envelopes
me, awakening my senses.

The clouds billow along.
I am floating,
waltzing with the sun.

“I dont want to die”
You say

“Im scared of death”
You say

You drone on about how you hate death and everything it brings, and why you never want to disintegrate into a heavy, cold corpse.

But you rot every day.

I sought earnestly,
to speak with the dead.
To put an end to the hell
existing only in their head.
To conjure spectres
at night in their dread.
The ghostly images,
of light down the hall
would gather round
to answer my call.
Then venture forth
out into the night
and visit their graves
until first breaking light.
Released from their torment
here on the earth
ready to pass
from this life into rebirth!

sometimes i think i have too much ambition.
i just can’t help wanting it all with you:

the garden in the backyard,
dirt stains on your jeans from kneeling in the dirt,
homegrown rhubarb pie cooling in our kitchen.

the coffee table photo album
with polaroids from a hundred different places;
france, germany, new york, and maine .

a big old tree for us to lay under,
soft grass to cushion our heads
and a sea of stars for us to admire.

How is it, in all these centuries
We haven’t yet learned to get along?
Why can’t we hold different opinions
Without coming to blows?
Why can’t we let people who earned something
Keep it, instead of stealing it from them?
Why don’t we recognize the human right
Of people to live in peace
And raise their children without fear?
Why do a handful of thieving bullies
Get away with making war,
And taking what isn’t theirs,
And abusing people?
Will we ever find ways to live together
Peaceably,

the season of warmth, or rather inescapable heat, is pulling near. perhaps we can start there. perhaps i can meet her on the curb like we used to. where i asked her if she needed a drive home and she insisted not.

she wore different lashes then. her hair was full and her presence shadowed mine. i remember calling in a panic, "do you feel the way i feel?"

she could always put a name to it.

Earth
Caresses
Lunar
Induced
Perfect, precise, precious, peaceful
Shadows
Endearingly

G
All the things that I wanna write
C
Have been written
G
All the songs that I wanna sing
D
Have been sung,
G
All the things that I wanna say
C
Have been said before
D A Em G
All the things that I wanna do have been done.

She turns up her nose at the marker there
Which lets each family member label their red plastic cup.
Big gatherings frequently number thirty or more,
Enough to use the package contents up.
Rather than waste them by losing track
And having to get another to use,
A name printed in black saves the day
And makes one’s cup harder to lose.
“Tacky” she says with an arrogant air
And gives us the glare we know well.
She’s out in the country in body but soul-
Wise she’s really a big city swell.