for my parents
#appreciation #childhood #consciousness #dad #father #gratitude #life #mom #mother #parents #thankyou
Of my family name. One day, 150 years ago. In a Castle Garden where Jenny
Be still now with the Earth. Still with the Sun, the Land, Sea
Burnished at first, then blemished— an earthly foreshadowing. Then bearded for a while.
After you uncork him and he appears in a serpentine of white smoke. Before he grants you
Blonde head under baobab. Sun under shade. You sit on an African day,
Who wore a green plastic visor the color of a ginger ale bottle. Who had a raspy voice and Charles Coburn kind of face. A forever bachelor
It was a wet signature. Full of emotion. Full of eroticism. Still wet, with sweat
The only thing warm tonight in the deep winter sky ~ and soon to occlude. The Wolf Moon, Ice Moon, Old Moon.
Motoring solo through the immense, silent, parted heart of the forest of Chinon. The birdsong air
Maybe, like Marcel, Monsieur Proust, in Paris, it begins with a bite of a madeleine.
Your rare, cured leaves of being. Beautifully steeping in these years of living. Bringing to your senses rich
The Maine woods. The coastal woods. Where coming into Spring he resides, is at home. Where he keeps a fire burning
Those many, sung and unsung, who gave themselves, often gave up their lives, to fight, in wars,
I’m glad for mine. The long, aquiline form of it. The way it has shaped, informed my face;
If he could see you now. Really see you. Take you entirely in. As you are now, in these days, places