Bathe these dreams in argent moonlight
Illuminate all the forgotten corners of my psyche with a silver glow
That I may find a way back to an illusive somewhere
A spiritual home that has never existed

A constantly stirring nostalgia for places I’ve never seen
A deep powerful longing for something more, some underlying truth
Incessantly pulls me in one thousand directions
Splinters me into infinite fractals
I exist in every space
In every time
I am a multitude

Pain.
I must see you,
And feel your touch,
Taste you,
I need to smell you,

Pain.
Embrace me
Consume me,
I crave you,
In my flesh and bones,
I need to know you.

Pain,
Crush my mind,
Burn my heart,
Drown my soul,
Mold me,
Into you.

Spouse of my eldest sister
marital bond fixed in place
strong as mortise and tenon,
he hales of hearty Irish stock
genes of said septuagenarian
analogous to pith and marrow
wrought courtesy divine providence.

At present aforementioned brother in law
recuperating after orthopedic surgeon
alleviated severe pain
NOT linkedin to damaged, injured,
and ossified rotator cuff
as initially surmised, nevertheless
temporarily forcing kinsman
to become a southpaw.

Chartreuse lace mists a shadow branch
Spring makes her annual advance

Stronger sunlight than months gone by
Fair weather ushered through needle's eye

The air is cool though, even yet
Winter whispers "never forget"

“I hope I die before you”, she worries.
“I don't want to be alone.”

“But you'll have the two dogs and some family.
Besides, I'll need you to host my Celebration of Life,
and read a poem for me. Maybe this one.
And play the music I liked for everyone;
maybe tell a joke or two, so things don’t get too somber.”

“But you won't be there.”

“Yeah, more or less, that's how I see it too my love.”

Stone
Written by Kelly Ann Wilson

Before I could get my license
And learn to drive a car

Before I could walk across the stage in a cap
And hold a diploma in my hands

Before I could wear the white dress
With the buttons down the back

Before I could find my direction
And purpose
And what I was meant for

My body started
Turning to stone

And soon, I couldn’t move
Couldn’t walk
Couldn’t run
Couldn’t reach

And even though I was still young
I would never again be free.

Last year I visited a hallowed place
I had been there twice before,
This place that reflects and honors;
A memorial no one should ignore.

Our nation's mall is the location
In the shadows of heroes past,
Tons of granite whisper quietly,
Our heroes names forever last.

Fifty eight thousand names are there
Etched for all the world to touch and see,
The names and dates of when they fell,
An epitaph of love, for all eternity.

Whereby yours truly presages and doth abhor
nothing short of an imminent civil war
dwarfing insurrection on January 6, 2021
oddly enough even reducing
ordinary decibels to a mute whisper
madding crowd trumpeting cacophony of ˈthȯr
drowning out sense and sensibility
allowing, enabling, and providing
golden opportunity for anarchy to run rampant
one issuing, earthshaking, and booming
as one collective soul with pride

where Lassie free to run across petco junction

All across the webbed
wide esse Scott's landed wold
emerald green Trifolium
carpets harbor untold
burrows of tiny Leprechauns clover
(leaf) ways grant trifold
wishes if captured might
divulge pot of gold
at rainbow's end, and e'en mend
yar shoes, whence re: souled,

Sometimes we talk about death
and all it has taken away. Maybe we'll find religion,

or look deeper into philosophy, or a similar comfort
to help us manage our grief and concern.

For now, we'll settle for what we have
together, among the here and now.

And maybe, just maybe this
will help keep the unknown at bay.