Friday, September 30, 2011


For love of laura:
Everpresent, ever-bright,
Unquenchable fire.
I named you Laura.
We talked about you for hours
As if you were real.
As if I know you--
I think in terms of Laura
What will you be like?
Images of you--
All the stages, all the looks,
All things you could be.
tIME keeps extending:
To days, to years--forever--
Scarring each moment.
Always the questions--
From my friends, from family--
I can’t explain you.
I tell those who hear:
I know just what I’m doing.
But of course, I lie.
ONE YEAR is measured,
And I wait, anticipate
Things to say to you.
Waiting for you now,
Like waiting for the high tide,
You will arrive...soon.
You were just a dream--
Just a thought, a plan, a name.
You are. You will be.
Curled up in the mind,
Reality check: LAURA?
The fire has been set.
They’d call me crazy
If it weren’t for the dream
Of embracing you.
Dresses, dreams and more--
LAURA, the world waits for you.
Your family waits.
My child, treetop-bound,
Arms and legs a blur, rising,
Ascending the world.
Child over cat--freeze!--
One second to catch the sight,
Then gone, both running.
Kept up by child screams,
LAURA, allergic to summer,
Now sleeps by the fan.
Mental snapshots: yes.
Of a child as yet unborn,
Can’t wait to hold.
Her fear of falling,
Descending stairs, she hold on
Tightly, then laughs.
Riding through tunnels--
Through open windows she screams
And laughs,laughs, laughs, laughs
I prepare for you.
I am to be inspected--
Found worthy/wanting.
Pages torn from books,
To be rewritten, n time,
By fragile fingers.
Red, white, blue blocks--up!
Sky-scraping, room cluttering,
Filling up your world.
Energy compressed,
Held tightly within your soul,
Prepared for RELEASE.
Captured arms and legs,
You pull me down to your eyes,
And I can’t escape.
Crackerjacks with prize,
Little fingers tear the box,
Scattering the crumbs.
Now, you are singing,
High, sweet voice--this is your song--
Ascending sweetly.
You are jumping rope,
Keeping cadence with your friends,
With your childlike chants.
I’ll trip on your toys--
Remnants of your busy day
Scattered on your wind.
From stories to sleep,
The slender thread leads to dreams
And back to daylight.
Crayon-deco walls
Washed clean--again, again--
Just for you, washed clean.
The world’s your toy-box.
You possess the continents, 
The islands, and more.
There was a time, once,
A friend took time to teach me
What it is to dream.
And she is watching
To see if i understand--
Truly understand.
Like a spool, around
Which a thread is wound and wound,
You are my center.

Copyright (c) 1991 by the author


Life begins at that point
Conjoined--mind and soul
Decide upon a path,
Then take it, fearlessly


TUMBLING down into
Daylight, trying to land with
Aplomb, with courage,
And not to stagger,
Reach groundward, gracefully,
Arriving from darkness,
Having been evicted
From night for too much laughter,
Not enough silence.
When I land, feet first,
Knees bent, all the stars applaud
A safe arrival.


When the rain comes
The wash all summer’s dust
From the world, erasing
The heat from our memory
Drop by delicious drop.
Autumn will now reside
Overhead, all around,
And all the leaves will change
Just because they have to,
Our shortened days progress
Toward Halloween
When children crave freedom
Of dark streets and costumes
And laughter and candy.
And then we all turn our
Attnetion to winter,
No longer happy with
Autumn and its rainbows,
Looking, instead, for white
Of winter’s veil of cold days
And we begin desiring
Longer daysthat bring spring.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

9/11 tribute