They Wasted No Time

They wasted no time in making it look like summer out here.
Like the hardy crocuses,
their plastic golf clubs multiply,
and with sidewalk chalk
they made new colors bloom
on surfaces that lately lay in snow.

The new moon holds a promise in its cup
that as the dusk proceeds
reveals itself to be of Earth.
Gazing, I am stupefied,
as the smoke from Spring's first offering
rises toward the sky.

March 19 2010

As Morning's Dark Alarm Required

As morning's dark alarm required
I used to rise,
put on my old dysfunctions,
and walk him down the street.

His pattering claws ticktapped in counterpoint
to the squeaking of one shoe.
I considered the closing of my eyes to be
a safe alternative to wakefulness:
Surely my young dog would lead me
where I had to go.

Now, when shadows overlay
each other and the street,
and rolling, down the hill,
the ocean utters in the dark
a highway's thunder,
quiet but unending,
I remember in my bed.

What separates our past from now?
How far do we ever overstride
our disabilities? Those treasured steps
that brought us here can be retraced
without our knowing,
till once again we find that we walk blindly,
wearing what we thought we left behind.

Let us in our separate hearts
each thank and prize these weary days we travel,
for the teaching they provide us
and the distance they divide us
from the less we used to be.

March 17 2010

There Is Something I Forgot To Tell You

There is something I forgot to tell you,
and I would not have had you leave
until I said it;
but since with your accustomed practicality
you have stolen this last march,
I'll say it here and trust that you'll receive it.

Never, by the way,
was there a man who spoke so constantly as you
no more than was needed; a man
who once stood on a Pacific shore,
immaculate in tans,
and greeted his own sweating brother
in the war, with what I hear
was a fine reserve (gilded, I imagine, by
an eloquent, ironic silence,
and of course that smile--you know the one I mean--
that hints at so much more that could be said,
if only it were not
so needless).

But now you see me at a loss:
Of much you taught, I learned your silence least
yet loved it possibly the best;
and I should honor you today
with quiet, not these words.
At least I can stand mute,
as sorrow certainly desires--
and you, I think,
already know
what I forgot to say.

March 18 2010

In memory of Pearson Stewart

I See Her Running into Happiness

I see her running into happiness.
Let, if it is not too much to ask, her golden hair entrain
each of these my doubts and misperceptions and,
drawing their dark threads from where I stand
here on the beach, pull them into nothingness
without her even knowing as she goes.

Certainly this is more
than one should ask a child,
but you know it is also right to look
for aid and to admit
the limits of our powers. Here,
on sand that sinks beneath her toes,
I see a saving force whose grace
is surely, if there's any in this world,
from God, whose strength is limitless
and lends itself with no restraint
so she may run,
and take me with her.

March 4 2010

We Start at Random

We start at random because
there is no better place.
The first marks that we scratch
upon the world are bold
or tentative, but lacking any grace.
Only as we grow do we acquire
the knowledge of what works and what
can safely be consigned to fire.

March 1 2010