Night Feelings

Oh the sky, 

Looking out the window 

Into the dark before

Sleep, emotions admixed into 

Deepest weariness, 

And it is, in this hour

Barely into a coming new day

So light, unnerving because 

It is not the solstice yet come

That I give in to every scrap

Of unknowing, wherein lies the knowing

And I tell myself that

The roadmap is tucked away somewhere 

In the constellations of my mind

Maybe in my heart, although 

I’m not too sure about that.

I’m  so tired, and not even 

Too sure about why

But as my old boat floats out to sea

I wonder, could you ever 

Come with me? 

May 24, 1:15 AM 

Finger Lakes Spring

I sit outside on the front porch

Once in a while, on a late-lit afternoon

I come here 

To look east across a reminding sky 

Rarely telling east or west,

Such is the gift of ancient lakes

Reflecting mysteries,

Covenant of geology and sky 

That no one can ever really know, since 

No one sky here can hold the land’s light 

Of any day much less the past 

As the sky surrounds,

Pinks arrive, floating along stretches 

Of trees’ limbs and illusions, 

Rising on the fade of  

Horizon; southeast giving to

A coming dark 

Bird song, immense quiet, a 

Sudden slash of rain awakening dry land,

Watering a thirsty latency of

Scent, bursting loamy, 

Bursting fresh now into promise, 

This late spring.