Light

That secret scribe, light,
Inscribes the eternal hallowed verse
Of beauty upon our waking eyes
Through the green translucent leaf
And down upon the robin's russet breast.
Oh light, that shields the world from mystery,
That gathers our thoughts, and sets them free,
Whether by moon or sun or lamp or star
You return my longing life-starved gaze
With a vision of my endless powers.

Moment of Clarity

Perhaps it will happen here, when I flick the light switch,
Or now, when I glance out the window
To see a child chasing a bird down the street.
Maybe it will come with the mail
In a letter from an old beloved friend.
Or better yet, when I receive a call saying my mother is dead.
I know, I should take a walk.
It's much more likely to happen outside than in.
Maybe I'll find it in the trees
As they're blown by the wind,
Or a flower--that's what flowers are for, right?
Or maybe I'll find it here, alone, seated at my desk
When I finish this poem.
Or better yet, when I get the chance to send these words
To you.

Presumptions

He made her laugh, therefore I'm not funny.
I made her laugh, therefore I'm a clown.
She looked with longing into my eyes.
She must want to know if my friend loves her.
I touch her hand and she begins to tremble.
She must be frightened, or the wind is too cold.
I kiss her mouth, and she kisses back.
Either this is a dream, or the end of the world.

The Watch in My Throat

A watch sticks to the back of my throat, insisting
I speak and pronounce the time:
"Time to live! Time to shout! Time to cry!"
The odd looks I get keep the watch ticking
Till the hands stop moving
And the breath of my shout rewinds it again.

Girl Resting in a Chair

Ah, yes, she dons a supple form.
Sliding into each other, the muses
Engage in blasphemous acts.
Coerced, they engage my tongue
And spread their venomous traps.
Ah, but now she's gone
And I've hardly had time to penetrate her
With my song.