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For W.C.W.

Along the edge

of the road

on a somber New Years Eve

tiki torches light

up the crystalline snow

with molten flame,

burning rapid and

pointing toward

the wind, welcoming

the toasted tribe home.



Afternoons

I found you

sitting on the porch, a glass

of wine in your right hand.

Your fingers formed

a fist around the stem

of the glass before you lifted it

in my direction, saying

without words, You’re late.

I could tell

from your hands

you had been digging,

pulling away

the unwanted. The bleeding hearts

looked clean and uncluttered;

their ruddy blossoms

swept the railing of the porch,

scoffing, it seemed,

at the dandelions that lay

next to them, lifeless.

For a moment, I felt sorry

I had not been there

to pull them gently from the earth,

to pull us together

into the afternoon.

Watching the sun

dip behind the rim

of your glass, I knew

there would be lilacs

waiting in my room, spilling

over the edge of a vase,

permeating the room

with their heavy scent.



Poet

blue, neon blue

the word, POET

floating in the darkness

black wall in back

painted black

attentive audience

filled, every row

faces, dark and pale

directed toward the stage

all of them thinking

many of other things

the blue word

POET, gathers itself

becomes a blue arrow and

shoots off, stage left

leaving a fellow

already standing there

smiling

black hair, white jeans

yellow shirt, green vest

he snaps his fingers

for a microphone and stand

asks, are we ready for poetry

delivers one line

and then another

line, pausing

oddly, here we go



Sing Me the Blues

Sing it baby,

sing them Blues!

I hear ya, I feel ya

I’m pickin’ up

what yer puttin’ down.

Bounce and bop

super fly on the rebound

with notes of pure soul.

Blues from deep walkin’ struts

turn it up high

slip in the front door

rockin’ the house down low,

Momma’s kickin’ it up

Blues ringing on the phone

harmonica cryin’ in the drink,

gotcha right up along the Mississippi

crossing the wires to my hometown blues

caught up in the wail

hollerin’ for the funk,

rock me with the soulful cry

So baby,

sing me the Blues.





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