Promise of dandelion wine

 it's always around the corner

always was just right around the corner

what we want or wanted

what we feared or still keeps us up at night

always the two tangled together

coming across whichever just happens

to face us in rotation of the ropes

whichever is torn or tethered by fate

for doctors don't even know the answers

why memory and numbers are fleeting

why blips in the brain have to steal

weekends away from weary wills

why determination springs from such wills

to rise against the fearfully new and untraveled 

which makes all the effort worth it

the aged wine waiting at the end of the path

Transient

 I dreamt I was a transient last night

just someone, anyone, maybe everyone

that set off on this path 

in the woods, hanging onto the trees

as I passed by their sculpted trunks

I wasn't alone, for there were others

on the very same path

though it was wide and varied

with everyone walking at their own pace

and suddenly the path ended

came to a halt in the middle of a store

where the clerk looked at me

from behind the counter, puzzled

asking if he could help me

I told him I was on this trail

and just wondered where it began, again

but he looked again at me, puzzled

then left through a door behind him

I looked at the shelves, at the food

acting as though I was anyone else

and then the clerk was at my side

asking if he could help, as if I needed it

as if I had nothing and served no purpose

in the store he tended to

but it was the store that had no purpose

I needed nothing there, no food, no help

I just needed my trail, the one I had been on

the one everyone else was on

going at their own pace

that clerk acted as though I was just a transient

with nothing to my name

just a transient traveling through

and then I woke up 

and realized it was true

Afib

someone pushed on the accelerator

and I was just going for the ride

a thief had come to steal my heart

and suddenly take my breath away

but I was only along for the ride

we rushed to slow it all down

waiting for the old woman before

yet I was just going for the ride

there were too many beats to count

just needing to take the edge off

just something to slow it all down

but I was only along for the ride

in drifting in and out of beat

I had to catch a wink or two

for though I laid in waiting

I had been too long on this ride

and I got to keep it this time

and I know what to watch for next

but I'm still constantly reminded

I'm only along for the ride of my life

Corpse

 rest easy in the dismissal of all things

rest easy in the earthen bowl

in the hollow husk

that once burdened the soul

the calcified halls dressed

in yesterday's tapestries

as sconces overflow with spilling wax

of lights extinguished 

somber silent wicks watch

numb carpets and drapes of flesh curl

still the crimson fountains where

dries the sanguine pools of arterial aspirations

where vampires and leeches now starve

the windows close shut

the mirrors now shattered 

that glimmered in this existence

once shared, now severed by the veil

that keeps its shadows to itself

and the bitter wind of death wails 

as the last breath exhales

and echoes through the halls of my tomb

Deciduous soul

 your shattered skin

leaves fallen, lightly waltzing 

tickled by the wind

as goosebumps form on your arms

hairs risen, breath halted

this moment to the next

when your deciduous soul fell

the nights spent without 

rougher than oak bark

time uses to tan my heart

a leather pouch, a faint drum

that lost the beat

when your deciduous soul fell

my song drifts through deafness

my lips move in silence

noticing limb silhouettes 

in street lamp light, frozen night

the days grayer than this

the taste of that last kiss

before your deciduous soul fell

Betty Lou

 it was in her eyes

that she could see all the beauty

that most would overlook

and she held all that beauty

within her prairie sky blue eyes

the sparkle that shone when

she first saw a young boy climb

from his family's wagon

and knew she'd marry him someday

that sparkle grew when 

that someday had come and passed

and both her heart and arms were full

with husband and daughters

and chicken dumplings on the stove

and hot rolls she'd make famous in the oven

the sparkle in her eyes grew

through the dark nights and loss in life

when her hands that had been baptized

in prayer, hard work and doing for others

had to let go to let birds fly, even to heaven

but she was always there to take care of

not only her own but the many lives

she had touched when she took up a nurse's torch

while the sparkle in her eyes stood watch

in the dark nights of others

the joy of rat terriers, church hymns, roses

and of course grandchildren

was a well-deserved treat

for her to savor when her body grew old

she watched as her grandchildren

had their own children

and seasons turned farm houses into fields

she watched with that sparkle in her eyes

as she said goodbye to that boy from the wagon

just a little over a year and a half ago

she sat and watched nurses do

what she had been called to once

and with that sparkle in her eyes

she still saw all the beauty

that passes most others by

Fuhrer Fear

his robes move within shadows

well in fact his robes are the shadows

light doesn't last long in his presence

and he savors the smoke of an extinguished wick

one can look into a mirror in the dark

yet never see any reflection of his image

the empty unmoving void within that image

could be said to be his true portrait

but no one has ever set eyes on him to know

yet any one could identify him in a split second

most say he wears a personalized persona

for each and every living thing in the world

perhaps for every thing not living too

though Beelzebub's death mask is a favorite

he wears all the crowns of the hellish thrones

and even the feathers of certain heavenly hosts

judgement is his scepter and ignorance his song

and once the very hint of his melodic tune is heard

his stealthily planted bomb will soon explode

when his victory is gained all are found guilty

for all have responded and played into his unseen hands

and just as the first light sweeps the dark from the land

he will have vanished with his feast deep in his belly

  

Last of August

 it's just the blushing maple leaves

that fall in this heated August breeze

that curl the hairs on his neck

that beckon back to the chilled moonlight

full crystal flutes he sipped from

in waiting to hear from the void of night

a distant, quiet voice called his name

luring him from civil slated order

into the wild ravages of the unknown

and he was pleased to succumb to the call

and fall just as these blushing red leaves

brush his cheek in this heated August breeze

Thirteenth of the eighth

 the blood slithers down his fingers

a nest of crimson serpents trying to find the floor

drip after drop

his image lays in pieces

where the sanguine splatters pool

the glass shards looking up at him

in the same shock and devastation

his attempt to pick himself up

has wounded him

the release and shatter are numbing

turning July sun

into December night

after each month in between

is slowly counted alone

in nocturnal rains and regret

he waits there alone with his shattered self

hoping to find some glue someday