Fox and Hound

That fox was a while ago,
but still it lingers here,
amid all the wrack, the scent of a wreck
that only his nose can see.
Too faint, thank God, for rolling in,
but still the remembered mystery:
what it was, 
where it is,
and why he may not follow.

November 21 2013

The Heartened Shell

As when the fever breaks
and you are tired, clean, and empty;
you walk out from your house into a field
and the wind upholds you.
You recognize the sun from long ago
and the water from the grasses bathes your feet.
All these gentle affirmations grace
the fragile part that hopes to strengthen,
and you bring the heartened shell of you
back home, and throw the windows open.

November 18 2013

Programmer's Affirmation

Do not generalize
from local failure
to global incompetence.
Your errors are no longer in scope
when the current function returns.
Trust in a catch for every try,
that your validation is robust,
and that if nothing else you have planned
for graceful degradation.

November 12 2013

That She Was Never Far Away

That she was never far away, oh
that she looked over my shoulder
to edit me, and with what greatest grace
and kindness she encouraged me,
my silent watcher sitting perhaps now even at his hand
or feet, healed, rested,
and wiser; 
now indeed she lives, now indeed,
and it is exactly she to whom my tears return
and always will except that now I have been given the sight
of where she is happy
and ever will be,
in hope,
in hope, oh,
near.

November 7 2013

Skitter

It skitters, one leaf

up the street on paper claws.

Snow stalks close behind.

November 2 2013