And who is to say
That if you had endured
A moment longer,
That I in
Your final presence,
Could have endured,
The moment of your leaving.
Leaving
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Category Archives: Mortality
Hemingway Stands
Hemingway
Standing in the street,
In a blue thin striped shirt,
And short white shorts,
Hands in pockets,
Slightly balding,
Looking for a sign,
Waiting solemn.
Stop Look Up
My father taught me
to
stop and look up,
To survey the stars,
Each night
before you close your eyes.
A Letter to the Other Side
Image
Did you Hear ?
Did you hear
Leonard Cohen died
His family, and his lovers
by his side.
Did you hear
Leonard Cohen died.
The music and the words won’t be quite
so gravelly
deep.
Did you hear
Leonard Cohen died.
Won’t be long before Irving and Abraham
Are by his side.
Did you hear
Leonard Cohen died,
Discarded mask
And costume that he wore,
To slip behind a curtain.
Did you hear
Leonard Cohen died.
A village and a nation sighed.
Did you hear
That last
First
soft breath open:
Go by brooks love
Where fish stare,
Go by brooks love
I will pass there.
The Boatman is Thankful
The boatman is ambivalent.
He is unsure whether this side
or that side is preferable
whether pauper or king it be,
but he is still thankful
even with his trepidation
for his boat and his oar.
And he knows travelling
back and forth that the journey
is the thing
That matters.
Autumn Light
Autumn
Brings grey
clouds
Cool evenings
And a
golden light
Lessened and
Fading quickly
Boatman’s Comtemplation
The boatman sits
In the bright sun
Wearing a tall black hat.
Crouched over
He plays
His stringed oar mandolin.
He stands,
stretching his thin
White clothed frame.
Smoothing a greying beard,
And taking off his hat,
Reverently
He contemplates both
Grace and the grave,
And all the islands,
And the shores across the way.
Then he deftly sits again
to play,
The new melodic moments
Eternal
In the day.
The Instant
In an instant
He was everywhere
And nowhere,
Simultaneously
In a thought,
In a note of music,
In a ray of light
Between the branches
Of a summer’s tree,
Witnessing the most intimate of
Conversations,
And love was manifest
Everywhere,
And it was all so overwhelming,
Yet so instantly easy.
Leave Me
Who has said to death,
Go and leave me
For a season.
Let me rest easy.
You are a shirt
Blue and white
Or black
That will go
to Goodwill;
You are
wrinkled papers
and other things
Folded waiting
in the pockets
of time;
And we must make a
New start in
This latter time,
We must have the patience,
And be willing to say :
Leave me for
a season,
As a coursing
Resolute
Heart,
fresh in new thought.
PWChaltas 