Symposium
Skinned shins on tree skins,
Space-viewed landscapes of rust and paint
Showing mirrored continents imagined;
Worlds within worlds at every turn,
Outlines of Octopi on Oil slicked streets;
Every post and pole or stone a step:
Sat on, walked on, laid on and more.
Touching the Earth like a hungry whore,
Hands and sweet souls searching,
Yearning for the novelty of new.
The freshened eye of youth and all it drew.
Uncommon cigarette, cat whisker, handkerchief;
Insects and man-made finery of machines.
Reflections, shadows, patterns, and sheens,
Delightful explorations between the real and dream.
A vinyl record, hole and grooves, stood on seam
Turned and spun, felt and seen. Experienced.
Merging with the new, merging with the view.
See! How long the spiders’ legs; how fast the flies surround;
Green chromed back glistening in the sun.
Crepe-paper wings compartmentalized and washed
Mouth to leg to overhead in acrobatic display.
See! wonders everywhere. Different trees and fences
Beckoning to climb, limbs to limbs entwined, on summer’s eve.
I sometimes grieve I miss it so. Teary-eyed with ache of soul,
I do miss it so. All the world, new and simply wondrous to behold.
What becomes of youth when growing old?
The big black Buick with chrome at every turn,
White-walls, red rims, and moons on tires that burn.
Those drizzled days of rainbows blazing; every June;
A mist of every morning, dewdrop’s dancing bright,
On blades of grass slick with dew, in mirrored light.
Sitting in a figure-four, sliding down McCaskey hill
Ankle tucked beneath you, outstretched left leg rudder flying.
Sneakers no grip here. Every intimate wonders’ thrill.
The loss of youth, adult’s first kill. Blessed to be the fool,
Who had no clue he was the fool, for when he learns of
Foolishness is drowned within the deep end of the grownup’s pool.
How I long to live where turtles bathe on river logs, where
In the distance croaking frogs, join dragonflies and magic-cries,
Of spirits enchanting, on lake waters dancing;
Residing where lightning bugs illuminate visions of each soul expelled,
Treasuring moments leaping to meet the eye of breathless beauty held.
When thirst was for the eye and quenched with every apparition.
Undefined by naked definition. Raw and undefined,
Savored by the senses. the hair upon your arm brushing
across a newspaper lightly, or chasing your shadow
Down the alley under street lamps nightly.
Worrying not for learning or knowing, indeed there will be time.
Just feeling the cold ice water soothing a parched summer throat,
Tasting bologna from the pack, separating strings circling
Outside each piece with your tongue, placing it on your fingers
To make a swing or sling, or snapped to make a string or trail,
Or fence to trip a snail.
Today so soon becomes tomorrow’s memory
Do not let your time become your enemy
As you persist, each day inside the endless rain:
To work to eat… and then to work again.
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