Tuesday Poem: originally published by The Syracuse Record in 2003

 

Milkweed Lyric

Here

in this moon

scape snow-lit

night, our bed is

a pod, perched at the

end of a dry grizzled

stalk, heaved by the

wind this way and that.

Here, on the Milky Way’s

shoulder, we curl, snug little

seeds, taking fugitive rest

in a feathery but ephemeral

nest,  tucked in so well

we’re unable to see

what might be out

there waiting, or

where we’ll

be planted

next.

Tuesday Poem: Published in Kalliope in 1986

photo by Rick Ruggles
 (color adjusted)

  

Let's Invite Autumn

into bed with us,

our legs rustling the sheets,

like wind sighs through fallen leaves,

a hint of dryness in the murmuring

that passes between us,

our mouths cool,

insistent as morning,

on the edge of desperation.

Let's start school tonight,

open each other like brand new books,

tangle ourselves in curiosity,

take a recess from innocence.

I'll show you my September apples.

We can press cider together,

drink to the gathering darkness.

Dance with me -- a last fandango

as we go ablaze, as we come

down to sweet sleep,

bright sails along the golden,

rim of sunset, the giddy

contours of what’s

about to pass away.