Once Undone

I recall,
I think I recall sitting with you
In the creaking swing on the
Side porch, perhaps
When the air softened up
And quit the restlessness from
The prairie wind for those
Moments between end of
Day, well, the high, clear light
And the pause pregnant with
Birds, frogs, the breath between
Those perfect balanced worlds
As we nestled young into
One another, and
Into silken night.

Earlier on any afternoon we would lie
On blankets under the willow
And the scent, wisp of
Lavender about to bloom and
Lilac bursting lilac all our
Senses—beyond the prairie
Tall grass in the twilight
Coming on, when
I'd willed, then, time to stop,
All there in those
Moments, every fiber,
Every sinew was on fire.
You were so beautiful.

Hard to say now,
Another lifetime on,
Perhaps I was looking for
You even then,
Searching for the lush
Landscape of lust,
Most likely I can't really
Even try to call it love,
But there, dusk into a midnight
Blue I found you, only hopelessly
Years on, colliding, veering
Into a present coming through
The golden past miasma

A violet lightning broke the dark
Across the prairie,
And through the willow's slender
Lacy boughs, I remember how
The sky flashed rich
And strange.
I let it all live into life there then,
As now, but I must tell you,
Though, I don't really know,
Perhaps I am letting go,
Perhaps climbing ragged
Like the honeysuckle
On the pergola these decades
On, your face and
Countenance as it was then,
Finding you, and finally knowing:
It was enough.

Jump

Anything is possible,

Just listen to the folks 

Around you. 

Look at the light in

Your western skies, your 

Eastern skies,

There are such good 

Answers around us. 

Today and tonight I talked

And listened to

Some friends, from near

And far, and I can't quite 

Describe this yet,

But these good things 

Are happening. 

Words for a Highway

I had a huge
Wave of homesick,
Had some waves of it
These two days,
And it canopied me all today,
Mowing, weeding, looking at
The perfect sky,
One day we won't be able to go,
We will be stuck in longing.
We won't be able to traverse the
Miles, feelings or
Attitudes, the rigor of putting
Wheels toward the beckon
Of the west, each mile
Signaling that it might
Be the last.
Mortality looms, and
It seems liberating.
Tonight I told them, my kids,
All the hell that's coming.
They sat quiet and
Looked up at these heavens
And I told them
As best I could, it
Starts from what feels
Like home,
We have to rebuild
This world.