Friday, October 23, 2015

Symbols



Bear With Heart

Tags sewn into your seams
Overseas humbled you even
Before you arrived in numbers

Fanning out to Walgreens
Coast to coast finally
Making your way

To mothers cluttered night
Stand next to her death bed
Jostling with molted TED hose

A forlorn incentive
Spirometer
Barber pole striped 

Candy milling aimless 
Across a signed glossy of Elvis
Who just happened to drop

By the nursing home in August.
A purple plush
Sporting a smart red jacket

Paired with a potent
Symbol of St. Valentine
Proved irresistible

To two solemn shift
Aides, girls in their late teens
Whose job it was to arrange

The body in tableau
While I got some air and made
The necessary phone calls. 

How else to explain how 
Two such as you had come to be
In the trunk of a rental car

At McGhee-Tyson Airport
Where you were stashed after
I plucked you from the casket

Looking bereft and broken
Slumped there beside her
Carefully folded hands. 

Monday, October 19, 2015

Revision



Science Film

These autumn colors leave
Me pining for black and white
Grammar school reel to reel
Science films snaking through
The rackety innards of Cold
War film projectors
Chalk motes swarming
In cones of gibbering light
Can-Do Voice-overs
Always a hiccup off
Read by radio men
Sporting pale miens
Pie plate headphones
Slick with Brylcreem
Perhaps a Scholastic short
Featuring two winsome
Child actors playing
The part of you and me
Little button noses
Wrinkled in something
Like stricken joy
At a baby bunny wide
Eyed and stock still
In an apple crate
Under an apple tree
Leaves school in binary
Shimmer on the summer
Breeze blowing through our film
Whether an introduction
To photosynthesis or
The metamorphosis of
Caterpillars hardly matters
To you beribboned in gingham
Or me flying flapping
Dungarees
Platinum hair
Whipping our faces
Sky a china white
Behind ivory billows
Framed forever
Dimpled and laughing
Milkweed exploding
From clumsy fingers like secrets
Shared in alabaster
Sign language. 

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

after a short hiatus



Sycamore

Three syllables
No less pleasing
Rolling off

The tongue yet
Possessing
A soupcon’s more

Economy
Being four
Letters lighter

Dense as devils food
Lacking elbow room
Between the last

Two beats
Ninety feet
Bottom to top

Eighty
Odd years
Young and leaning

Against
Our house
Telltale

Leg of a timid
Giant trying
To squeeze himself

Into a moment
Ragged leafy breathing
Giving him away.

“English Plane”
My tree guy
Says sideways so

We crane
Our necks
Squinting

Undeniable
Quiet dignity
Now where

Shabbiness once
Prevailed, shading  
All of our tomorrows.