Through the years

Who was I as all my years
Accumulated? The time is
Not a continuum. It breaks
Into small scenes, acts as
Distinct as if each were a
Life encompassed in 15
Minute skits, not all funny.
Many poignantly true to
Life. So much time passed,
Passes unnoticed, goes
Into a compartment, a
Memory perhaps not always
Remembered as it should
Be. I do know my last acts,
The 35 years I spent by your
Side are vivid, not blurred
By slippery recollections. I
Know who I am every moment
Of these years, the years
That are my longest acts,
Not broken into bits, solid
And happy in reminiscence
As they were in real time,
True to life.

Today and always

For Burton P.

I know nothing about love,
Its chemistry, its molecular
Substrata, I know only the
Feelings of joy that linger
In its shadow, in its aura, in
The smile, and in the soul.
I know nothing of its physics,
Its reasoning, its intricate
Deliberations. I know only
My joy at your touch, a joy
That lingered through the
Years when the physicality
Of love-making vanished as
If vaporized by the changes
In your mind and body. I know
That love stayed in your heart.
I know it remains in mine.

Mom cake

A mother’s day poem

Is it possible that someone
More capable than I will bake
Or,
Take the recipe I share among
My friends to remaster, make
Again my mother's famous
Cake, the one we defrosted a
Year after her passing, and
Passed among our friends who
Gathered to witness the year
Anniversary of her death? The
Cake one of her many gifts
By which we could remember
Her then. The famous cake,
Made with a flour ground from
Nuts, walnuts but we, actually
She, substituted almonds to
Make the roulade and a rich
Sweet frosting, rich and sweet
As was she. A flourless cake
She baked before every high-
Minded pastry chef in our
County offered one up on a
Dessert menu that topped a
Pricey tasting menu, elegant
As was she.

Dawn

The morning light entices me.
Is it later or earlier than I can
Ever anticipate it to be? This
Morning I am awakened by
It's early appearance.Shouldn't
I know if it is just dawning or if
It has been bright for hours or
If it is just first light? Shouldn't 
I know just by the quality of the
Day as it peaks into my room
What time it really is?

Naming the rose

Chapter 3

They see the devil in their desires
The serpent lurks, swallowing at
Their humanity, strangling their
Natural impulses and sometimes
Their basic needs. It's a version of
The devil made me do it that is so
Deadly serious that it makes good
Men murderous in defense of their
Piety, thinking that that sin is less
An offense to their God than the
One their hearts and bodies desire

Sweet. Clear.

Our passion is shared and
Divided up by memory into
Little bits of what once was.
Remembered, stored away
For safekeeping, it lives as
It once did but hazy as faded
Pictures in a sundrenched
Album. Not as safely kept as
Our treasured love once was.
We would not have let the
Edges curl or the color drain.
Pleasures once tangible now
Are distant, and dreamlike,
Played out in the flashes of
Uncertain memory, slipping
Out of focus, but sweet and
Clear.

Daylight

There is no rush to get up.
Shapes emerge as I gather
The light coming in from my
Window. Dawn is a revelation
It is that, revelatory, by nature.
The gathering daylight reveals
What every new dawn reveals-
The surprise and delight of the
Beauty that is in the world and
Ready to greet me as I gather
The light as it emerges. Dawn

Wordle song

Trope quote hotel
Round pound route
Works jerks murky
Fiver pleas lette..
Uhohh, fiver pleas

It'ssa gaame ooovf trans
Forma tions (longA) aannd
Realy there isn'ta reasn toooo
Cheat. Fiver pleas. Start. Finis

Frond found. Tidal 
Trial. Wring wrung
Fiver river. Brews
Trees. Clues blues
Pound mound. Pleas
Lease. Downy found

Grieving

There are so many words but
I have only used loss; I've only
Said "I'm mourning" or "I mourn"
I have said "I miss you" and I've
Mentioned that as I missed you,
You were also missing. I knew
You were lost and losing little
Bits of yourself over time which
I noticed you had lost. A whole
Concept, a man-made construct
Time was lost to you. This not
Being able to tell time caused
A consternation. You did ask
After the time a lot. "What time
Is it?" A question that came at
Minutes apart. You wanted to
Know, to understand but you no
Longer had the sense of it. Time
Was already really irrelevant and
Lost. I knew I was grieving you
[There I have said it.] I still had
Little bits of you but I mourned,
Bereft of the partner who would
Know how to fix it. Whatever it
Might be. The companion who
Did things, set the clocks back
Or forward, the lover who would
Recognize my feelings, the friend
Who would console when I was
Sad. I grieved alone. Sad alone. I rejoiced alone. You were here and we did laugh and chat together. Your chitchat could be so very Endearing. Now you are truly lost
To me but not lost in confusion   Lost. Gone. I can begin mourning
Properly, my grief made real by
Your timely departure. You were
Able to pick your moment, time
Your passing perfectly. I have a
New concept of time now too, a
Time when a vibrant loving man
Left me with memories, a time
When that man, my man began
His long fail into confusion, and
That time when I journeyed with
Him in sickness 'til death did us
Part and I was left bereft but with
Memories of his strength, of him.
Memories of his generosity and
His love and his care. I grieve his
Loss. I mourn your passing but
I rejoice in all our time together.
It was our time. We used it well.
Bereavement, grief, has its time
Now. Memories of all our time
Fill my time now as I grieve you
And miss us. As I mourn our time