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Dream III
splash’d was my mind
with a whisper
of hue on furlough
of age forgotten
of entities that never were
and when my eyes
yawn’d and left their pillow
strain’d I my intellect
only to remember none of it
and still but a partial play
in a future slumber
Rock
some—
see but a fallen angel
a mistake
broken from the flesh of a cliffside
a peril potential to passers unfortunate—
onward traverse these o’er beaten paths
others—
feel the result of Nature’s chisel
as an abstract
or a weather’d ancient ruin
or any infinites
of provokers of imagination—
recess these with bottl’d water and cameras
and cerebral conversation
Happy Holidays, Everyone!
Privy Lamp Post
where late evenings
awaken
the shadows
reflections
and whispering silence
of her night life
Hiker’s Guerdon
watch displays
so many steps
so many miles
a mature pulse
and calories burn’d
but the sweat
and heave of breath
be ignor’d
by destination’s view
(photo courtesy of my nephew Joe)
Ghost Citadel
within these ramparts
converse the spirits
of fortress life
of defenders
of battles won to preserve that life
of battles lost and lives lost
this magical day
decipher’d their stories
into song across the sky
on the Backbone of Day
loujen haxm'Yor 