The breeze likes to gossip
And play with my hair
As droplets do tricks
Upon rocky stairs
Hear them whisper and complain
Like a chorus girl’s refrain
Windy days are for dancing
Like reeds and sand
Rainy days are for singing
Under blankets and cover bands
Air and Water
Avatars of change
Peacefully adapting
As earth and fire
Fall away
How do rocks go astray?
How do they crumble and erode?
Broken crags and fallen stones
Protect and hold on to
Cliffs and slippery slopes
In anxious absence
Flounder and fracture and fester in mold
These rocks break and they batter
Building upon buildings
Mountains and shrines
Dark fallen towers
Of forfeited godliness
If only rocks could speak,
If they could sing and skip
Upon the highways of life
Then silence wouldn’t be home to stony hearts
And narrow paths wouldn’t be so cold
Soft but sharp
The loss of unseen ground
The fallen whims of the living
Unbroken and upright
An invitation to surrender
Into a flinching embrace
The fabricated unawares
Of accosting pests
Makeshift bedding
Lost, lush decorations
of many colored leaves
Sunk and crushed
By unconscious feats
Strutting out of foliage
adding function to breaking forms
it sweeps the surrounding
as it whips the wind
Yellow-green hardy survival
These leaves leave much to be desired
I blame the helpless
those left by unfavorable circumstance
No I blame the careless
Decadent in selfish frigid space
I cannot always wander alone
I cannot bear the responsibility
nor the repression of impatient flexibility.
Prick-ish cultivated interests
Fertilized with Dewey’s understanding
I’ve lost my chances with small living
I’ll sweep your remnants off the floor
Pursuing Prose & Poetry 