Your portable cordless electric poet
is made with maximum materials
to the highest specifications of oral hygiene
Please be certain to rinse your poet after every use
to keep your poet fresh and prevent mold
Please be certain to store your electric poet
in a cool dry place when not in use
You can tell all your friends about the way
your electric poet pleases you and helps you smile
With proper care your purchase will give you years of pleasure
and very nice teeth
that moment was so silent
there wasn’t anything in it
not even me
Having spent a very long and stormy night
losing the ‘what if?’ game
For no reason at all
I decide to play the ‘mindfulness’ game
in the trailing days of a lingering summer swelter
I become – unstuck
Somehow this moment falls away
swirling like that leaf
I reflect on the refractions of Autumn
Autumns to come
Rust red oak
Pathways in the dancing leaf shadows
Pathways beyond number. . .
The harvest moon ascends into a roiling late-summer night
Cloud dragons delight in concealing her dreamy glow
The stars have gone
the sky is darker than a lost lover’s heart
The Wizard sets aside his hat, his coat and vest
Withdraws a wand from his vest
He addresses the darkness
A tone poem builds in his chest
His bare hands reach into the firmament
A sizzling electricity builds in the air
His weathered face does not crack when he smiles
(though there are those who might say it would)
His eyes are closed but there seems a dancing light
flashing behind his lids
He lifts his wand like a conductor
calling an orchestra to order
The howling winds flow through his fingers
Waiting for his domination or a moment’s inattention
Lightning fire fuses water and air
dragon laughter seeks to crush him
His laughter answers
Pelting rain bombards everything
adding staccato to the dark drum thunder-music
He weaves the night into a symphonic poem
All of a piece
A single continuous movement in maelstrom minor
Chords of discord collide and sizzle
Franz Liszt would have been proud
In the center of the tumult
Soaked to the bone
The Wizard cups his hands and gathers the turbulent waters
Lifts to to his lips . . .
Ferocious sable silk, the song of the storm flows
down his throat
Quenching a thirst
The cinnamon sky
The gentle brush-stroke, glowing ash clouds
A residuum of a fiery summer sun
A shooting star arching across the wispy vault
Quick, then gone
Was it real?
Did I imagine it?
A traveler moving above the horizon
Does it count double if the meteor cuts the twilight?
Did I even make a wish?
The silence of the coming night
says all that needs to be said
It is enough
The Magician has not left the beach, except to hunt for food. He stands and watches as the tide rises and ebbs. He waits in fear and grief. There are no echoes in the dark chambers of his heart.
There! In the shallows.
She fights for the surface. She fights to clear her lungs.
She bursts into the light, coughing and spitting.
He drags her to the beach. His tears baptize her.
She opens her eyes to a blue-sky world and in his chest, she hears . . .warmth.