A lone star hangs
in an indigo sky
as fireflies rise
from the ground
to ring down
the curtain
on the day.
4 August 2013
Nashville, Tennessee
Category Archives: Poem
Nashville night
Ghosts of Gettysburg
Through early morning mists they march
across the fields of green,
fields red-stained by their life blood
when they were young.
No long range kills,
no smart bombs then;
just frightened, courageous
too-young men
who,
for cause
country
comrades,
engaged each other
face to face
and
hand to hand,
performing acts of
unspeakable horror,
incredible valor,
absolute futility
until the arms of Mars
did embrace and claim them.
23 August 2002
The Shire, Louisville
Filed under National Park, Poem
A tribute to Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela
Island, Prison, Quarry
On an island they would hide him
Separate him from the cause
He would not let them hide him
And his spirit it still soared
From the island his spirit soared.
In prison cell they would hold him
From his spirit choke all life
He would not let them hold him
And his spirit remained true
In prison cell he still stayed true
In the quarry they would break him
Crush his spirit like a stone
He would not let them break him
And his spirit remained strong
In the quarry he stayed strong
From the island, prison, quarry
One fine day he freely strode
And in his spirit we could see
That he was already free
Lord he always had been free.
His soaring spirit true and strong
Keeps him walking to this day
Won’t you rise and come along
And to freedom we will walk
It is to freedom that we walk
Originally written in 1990, this piece is no less sincere for its inadequacy to do justice to the man.
Filed under Current Events, Poem
Train-snared
As we speed downtown
toward South Ferry
the window captures my image
where it hovers, perhaps forever,
leading me to wonder:
whose train-snared shades surround me?
Who went before?
Whose paths do I share?
Who are my companions?
11 May 2013
1 Train between 116th and 110th
Deep on deep
We who judge the acts of others,
might do well to think and pause,
of what we ourselves do carry:
words spoken and unspoken,
deeds finished, deeds undone.
We would hide them from all others,
we would hide them from our friends,
we would hide them from our lovers,
we would hide them from ourselves.
Buried deep on deep inside us,
just below the surface,
carefully kept from thought and view,
still they haunt us,
shame us, scare us,
in the silence
they thrive and grow.
2 May 2013
Shire on the Hudson
The usual mixture
I bask in the Manhattan sun,
warm against my face
and remember Ireland a year ago
with Tricia and with friends,
and rejoice with Joel and Roja
whose promises drew us across the water,
and ache for Joe who joined us there
and today grieves his brother’s death.
Disparate feelings stir, mix, tug,
today, as every day. Life.
27 April 2013
Shire near the Hudson
Death & love
Death struck
One called
One went
Together wept
Nothing more
Nothing less
Love
4 April 2013
Amtrak 185
Graceful exit
On the road to the Incheon airport,
as the sun climbed slowly over the hills,
we watched the moon dissolve
in the gentle blue sea sky and
fade from view,
making yet another
graceful exit.
Incheon
29 March 2013
Tears remain
Be careful.
Keep safe.
Don’t get into trouble.
If trouble comes looking for you . . .
run!
So they told him –
those who loved him,
who heard his first cries,
who held him at his birth,
those who would protect him
those who loved him,
who heard his first cries,
who held him at his birth,
those who would protect him
from a world in which children
die too soon
die too soon
so often
that no tears remain to shed for them.
that no tears remain to shed for them.
Be careful.
Keep safe.
Don’t get into trouble.
Don’t get into trouble.
If trouble comes looking for you . . .
run!
run!
He heard their words
and learned them well.
When gunshots
When gunshots
tore the silence
of the street where he played,
he ran.
of the street where he played,
he ran.
For cover he ran;
for safety he ran;
for his very life he ran.
for safety he ran;
for his very life he ran.
Following the sidewalk;
cutting through the grass;
leaping up the steps, he ran –
his heart racing
faster than his feet.
leaping up the steps, he ran –
his heart racing
faster than his feet.
Sprinting across the porch;
throwing open the door;
stumbling through the doorstep, he ran –
entering what should have been the safety
of his own home.
stumbling through the doorstep, he ran –
entering what should have been the safety
of his own home.
Filled with fear
and their words, he ran still –
his fingers touched the bannister
as he began to mount the stairs
that led to his room,
the wall beside him exploded –
his fingers touched the bannister
as he began to mount the stairs
that led to his room,
the wall beside him exploded –
a chunk of hot lead
ripping through vinyl siding,
spraying drywall,
violating his body,
tearing life from him.
ripping through vinyl siding,
spraying drywall,
violating his body,
tearing life from him.
Be careful.
Keep safe.
Don’t get into trouble.
If trouble comes looking for you . . .
Don’t get into trouble.
If trouble comes looking for you . . .
run!
So they told him –
those who loved him,
who heard his final gasps,
who held him as his lifeblood pooled around him
those who tried, but could not protect him
from a world in which children
die too soon
so often
yet still tears remain to shed for them.
who heard his final gasps,
who held him as his lifeblood pooled around him
those who tried, but could not protect him
from a world in which children
die too soon
so often
yet still tears remain to shed for them.
15 August 2001
Cleveland Heights, Ohio
Filed under Cleveland Heights, Poem
Along the Graybeard Trail 