Everyone who knows me well knows that I’m pretty much a stay-at-home sort of guy. My Beloved Sandra, on the other hand, prefers a more globetrotty sort of lifestyle.
12 Of Sandra’s Favorite Anthems
1) Somewhere Over The Rainbow
2) Leaving On A Jetplane
3) On The Road Again
4) Bye-Bye Love
5) See You Later, Alligator
6) We Gotta Get Out Of This Place
7) King Of The Road
8) The Wheels On The Bus
9) The Long And Winding Road
10) Sail Away
11) Goin Up Country
12) Miles From Nowhere
But I know that whenever I’m on the road, there’s only one song stuck in my head:
13) Homeward Bound
Thursday 13-ers congregate HERE
Twice yesterday and overnight last night,
snow squalls and wind. This morning
the lawn was white. Hell of an April.
All day today, though, I imagined you
wherever you are (somewhere beside
water, I think you said) staring up at
the same clearing sky, the same blue as
the cold, distant ocean that called you
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,Tonight it’s clear: I’m alone and
the sky’s a dark crystal. Only a few stars
mar the dim silence; I’m standing here
staring up at the Lyrids (fine silver rain
of sparkle and flash from somewhere
halfway across the universe) thinking
only of you.
………………….It’s already almost midnight
and the moon won’t show for at least
an hour, no sun rises until you return.
An Oldie, dredged up in response to the Real Toads’ TUESDAY PLATFORM, suggesting we skywatch.
I have worn three-piece suits,
worn-out jeans and
nothing at all.
Everywhere I look I see
myself, my old self, and
someone I never was.
It’s like a fun-house mirror.
Sevenling? What’s a Sevenling?Find out HERE
It’s Too Damned Early For Words
It’s not usually too damned early. Today, though, it’s too damned early. I planted a few seedling words. I went back to bed, waiting. I was hoping they’d blossom quickly. Even now—several hours later—nothing. Maybe something will blossom later today. Keep your fingers crossed for me.
Mo Betta Sixers at: 6WS
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thin crescent appears
yesterday the moon was new
—weeks away from full—
all things exist in circles
May will spin into summer
(Still working on converting this–originally prose–piece into verse. It’s been around a while in one form or another. I thought it might work as a response to the Tuesday Platform…Running On… at imaginary garden with real toads. )
Ever and Will
Ever looked good out on Main, his feet
a foot above a fiery sidewalk, his wings
wide, his eyes glazed. He’s higher and
wiser than most, his lowest moments
behind him now, dim memories, all
the earth unfolding, lifting him up,
a raging angel.
Will had held a packet of powder for
hours, waiting for Ever to show, waiting
in a slow rain with a hacking cough, drained.
This is what he did. Hidden in his jacket
pocket, deep in the darkness there,
the tiny white bundle had waited for Ever.
Now it was an hour or more further into
the rain. Ever’s still out on Main in a
red hat and a fine high haze
and Will’s on another corner,
further downtown, confident, assured,
waiting for Ever’s replacement
with a pocketful of bait.