Day Turns To Night (+4)

A new century waits as the minutes

 progress

into hours of vestibular begotten memory

 

My thoughts being counted although I

resist,

my feelings in service to what’s left behind

 

The sun and the moon trade in bartered

romance,

each jilting the other as day turns to night

 

Another year is recorded in the serpentine

past,

what’s seen a mirage—what’s measured retained

 

(The New Room: March, 2021)

 

 

 

To Thine Self

 

One opinion that matters,

its judgment vouchsafe  

 

Where mountains have melted,

new rivers await

 

The merit for others,

but truth undenied

 

Beyond feeling and vision

—exists only I

 

(The New Room: March, 2021)

 

 

 

 

 

Graves Of Our Fathers

 

The Black Hills are crying,

our Mother forsaken

 

Enemy boot prints

where moccasins claim

 

To live just to die

in noble futility

 

All drums beat in silence

—He Sapa in shame

 

 

(Pine Ridge South Dakota: July, 2019)

 

 

 

In Poverty's Name

 

How do you lay off a writer…

unemployment assured

In labored obscurity,

his fortune unscored

How do you invest in a future

that’s devalued today

When checks never balance

—and words will not pay

 

(The New Room: March, 2021)

 

 

 

Adieu

 

The most important things don’t need a reason

—just because

 

The falling leaves beyond their season

—just because

 

The sun trades the night to the rising moon

—just because

 

The lateness that brings one last final adieu

—just because

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)