missing home...

Unfolding like new leaves in springtime sun
a dream begun in a smile, the familiar-
a view down Main Street in my little town.

Pacing past store windows, glass panels chronicle
my reach to the sun and the way my eyes
took on the wisdom of shade-dark circles.
Beneath a determined brow, a slanted sun
spring begun in the early walks and wondering

A view, the tall building where mother lived
defiant happiness, turning the world's indifference
into a patient golden glow...like this springtime sun
painting my portrait on lower Main.
Below Market and Broadway, another tower
where my sister held court
in a lively flow of rumor and near chance,
together, a lofty pair of deep and doubtless faiths.

The smile in the dreamy view
wrinkled anew as I dream-stepped
across a wide expanse of time, relaxed in expectation
the touch of love; and then, as if at shimmers end,
the vision took to sudden flight.
with so many still moments of knowing
the warmth of care and the shared ways
feelings we'd made into a cocoon of eruptive life.

They are not there any longer
neither together nor separately there,
gone, and the tall buildings
are just that, stoney anthills,
No longer the seats of love
no longer ...home

frosty dunes

Missing spring, bound in waves
creeping cold fills the inward thought
and the reflex to curl within extends
as resistance thins like the wantful kiss
felt of a bright but distant sun

When ease and comfort is a rumor
spread through hissing winds
still bare branches begin to swell
from habit rather than invitation

I chill in the slightest draft
and dread the morning steps to do
thing not put-off today, and say
spring has a fickle way that hides among
white frosty dunes, with hungered bird prints
and glyphs etched of callous winds