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             24 red roses
                re member
back to
      seedling, sprout
       budding,  blooming

                 flood
                     dark
                   secret
                     crevices
with roseate light
    pro      long
        the
        miracle
              of birth
                 blossoms
                 rosieness
                 r     eincarnation
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she
smiled across the table
                     her face lit up instantly
    her white body
              became illuminated
"do you know how happy it makes me to see you here?"
  (nine rubrum lilies at the next table listened)
                           her words bounced onto a dish
ricocheted off the gnocchi
                        disappeared into his heart
   (three rubrum lilies were still budding)
their intense gleaming spirits
                             splashed into the garlic oil
    (three rubrum lilies were in full bloom) 
they became angels
                 sitting in an italian restaurant                      g)
                            on filmore street                        n
     (three rubrum lilies were fading)
dipping their spoons into vanilla and chocolate gelato            i
(nine rubrum lilies at the next table
                                 gazed at the gelato            l
                                                wafted        i
                                                   toward   e
                                                   the    c
and then there were six
    the     room    was glowing
       smiles
bouncing    from     wall to wall
             colliding       with laughter
             food magically leaping through
                                     drinks
bubbling
 upon    the pure joy of being
                  together
                  love
was rekindled            new friendships bloomed
              stories
    began             and       ended
          here        and     there
it seemed as though a song
                      wanted to sprout
                                    until
                                   suddenly they were gone
the room sighed 
          into   sleep
                     faded                into the next century
the smiling of my shadow
when    i     'm     gone
will  ec   ho       from my
           poems
         through      early
                 dawn
look into the trees
           dear ones
             and  see
all the magic you and
   i    can    be
our everchanging love
             is floating
                    high
                   a  constellation
      spread       a  cr         o   ss
                         the          sky
when you think that
                  we're       apart
                                  touch
                                   our     everlasting
                                          he    a   rt
realize we're not afar
                  just living in                a     star
we're hiding
             we've been hiding a long time
      hiding in daylight
      hearing them pass beneath us
                    a long line of noisy boots

                                   we're hiding
first it was unconscious
              n ow  i  t is on purpose
                          softly sitting between
                          long              words
hearing them flutter
  above        us
  an endless whir of long dark wings

we're hiding in the midst of everything
                         lodged within chaos
seeping from peace
shifting           within
                       anger
                              hiding and hoping
                              more light will shine
                              hiding and gradually
                                    e m e r g i n g
                              hiding  and planting
                                   seeds of hope
                                 sprouts of love
i hear footsteps from next door
           someone is walking up and down
back and forth someone is pacing
                       i  can't tell what the footsteps are saying
they are full of emotion
more footsteps as i tune my listening
                               two houses away
they're louder, that doesn't make sense
my hearing becomes more attuned, i can hear all the way up the street
                                         as far as holly park
the footsteps are similarly different
i don't know if they are speaking to each other
                                   or      to everyone
perhaps if i return at 2 am quiet
i'll be able to hear footstep whispers telling stories
speaking rhythms    there is magic     ancient secrets
twelve red, ruby roses
                are  changing
                       along, slender stocks
green leaves are 
            fading
                 crumpled leaves
                 ar    e   falling
                    up   on       the table
no regrets
      no sighs
            no remorse
                          only  air
                          only water
                          only
                                           now

 

wisps of poems
             circle around my brain
                     nothing settles
snatches of color
            enter the shining of words
i long for the special closeness of my father's spirit
                gentle counseling found in a silent look
what would 'pappy'do with poem pieces?
he would gaze at them like  dark, red roses
                     trim   fading leaves
    shape tender petals
                     look upon them with flower love
what would 'my dad' do with poem phrases?
he would instinctively touch them
                like ripening beefsteak tomatoes
remove unnecessary    insects
                          wait until the right moment
what would 'my father' do with aching hearts
he would water and fertilize them
                        lullaby them under the waning moon
                                     knowing they're eternal treasures
to wash away winter woes
   make             borscht
           you          can speak to borscht
                                          it will listen
no two are alike
               each one changes
                          a   s it nears pot bottom
            becomes more philosophic
                                 has been known to give advice
consult the borscht on onion size and strength
there is always a garlicopinion
               my favorite winter borscht
                                    is
                                      very
                                          joyful
it is full of:cranberries, beets, onions, garlic, chicken broth, raisins,
brown sugar, red cabbage, red wine, sometimes an errant vegetable
                                        like            kohlrabi;
it is a wonderful companion for a holiday season
if you are missing loved ones
                    run to the pot and have a taste
             sometimes it will speak; othertimes it will bubble happiness
if you are feeling overwhelmed
                           sit and slowly savour a small bowlful
sing to the beat of the popping cranberries
                           dance to beet drenching
it is
    sacrilegious
 to      be    sad    in    the     presence   of     b  o  r  s  c  h  t 


money fell on wall street
                     like manna from heavenly banks
the stockers and the buyers
             ran through narrow streets
stuffing their clothes with
                  green, green money
stuffing their mouths with
                                old,  green money
stuffing their thoughts with
                                              old, greed money
feeling indomitably green
feeling impenetrably rich
                         feeling without feeling
money fell on billionaire mansions
                             like snow from neverending skies
the richers and the hoarders
                        danced on their green lawns
                                 stuffing their homes with
dead,  dead  money
                                 stuffing their cars with
dead, hollow money
                                 stuffing their children with
dead,  paper money
feeling indomitably flush
feeling impenetrably privileged
                            feeling without any feeling
money blew in the wind
                  like december snow flurries
                                  among the moderates and the poor
through the wide, frozen gardens
                         barely giving them clothes
for the cold, cold winter
                         barely giving them food
for the cold, lean winter
                         barely giving them strength
for the cold, hard winter
                         feeling eternally grateful
                         feeling constantly blessed
                         feeling the warmth of love
Zeus looked down and said, "This isn't right."
Jesus looked earthward and prayed, "The blessings must be balanced."
Buddha silently meditated, knowing words were futile.
Gods of countless centuries gazed at thin, calculated greed
Stared earthward with anger
                     Moving toward the mansions and money mountains
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