constantly

Posted on December 24, 2009 by riverwriter

in the still-dark, I am torn from the bliss
of my dream meadow by the conducted
cacophony of a snow-scraping backhoe
across the street. Alerted, my several
demons invade my fragile brain, placing
me on trial for dereliction of gardening,
participation in cheese eating Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, thoughts below ground | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

what looks back

Posted on December 23, 2009 by riverwriter

you can avoid locking glances with inevitability
if you focus on the banal

Do not look at the sun, even in eclipse;
you will go blind, they say, but they hide
the truth: the sun will look back.
And in that retina-searing instant, it will know
your secret heart’s perfect lies.

Do not look for the evil eye, even in the
depths of the dark valley, Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, thoughts below ground | Tagged , | Leave a comment

too late

Posted on December 22, 2009 by riverwriter

We do this:
The guy we took for granted dies, and now
the stories come trickling out as if they were
somehow forbidden, but now the locks have been picked
the door to the vault is open, the seals are off:
we hear about his driving passions and learn
there are butterflies in heaven, whales Continue reading →

Posted in aging, Poetry, thoughts below ground | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments