Excerpt from “The Hat Trick and Others”

One-Frame Dream

September-Morn-L

In a blink I recall locales I’ve never stepped near
I think they must all be alive still:
Those loves I never had  couldn’t want
Those frame houses, bright mountains,
Green in that flashframe
Cut and fallen to the floor, dark pain;

The moon, lurid, round as only planets
May boast, lights the way, then dips back
Where clouds, striated women plaiting arms
Drape gauze in sheets over its pallid shoulders.

The brighter sight, the clearer
The quicker snatched away, the sweeter
The deeper the gulf of loss,
Half-frame half-field is all the more devastating:

Eternal yearning over cracked symbols
And like brittle froth will not be taken, will
Split and tumble to Earth in a breath
Each beat hot with remembrance
Of its warm self, as though alive,

Like the last calendar page ripped off
And a glimpse of the picture, September Morn,
Garage Hours, oil odor, words in thick fonts,

They clatter down, their cheap serifs broken,
Their finials too thin, wearing out the chrome
Like onion skin; muling the words, then gone.

 

Buy The Hat Trick & Others on Amazon

Advertisements