Midnight Rubies (day 2277)

She had rubies that dangled down
To the hips that stole each heart
Cigarette was midnight in each look
She cast into the night.
She called to a lover down on the street
Who looked up and knew her name
He said: “My dear how are you there?
It has been a long long time.”
Then off into the night the taxi rolled away
And two strangers emerged
Locked arm in arm as they strolled.
She had rubies that dangled down
To the hips that stole each heart
And as she walked around her room
A record playing a good song
She pretended she was dancing at a ball
In a lost time, enchanted
She thought about writing a letter to
A friend she’d never met.
She had rubies that dangled down
To the hips that stole each heart
And every time she she shared her name
It changed into a vision
That soon wafted into the night
And all around was cobblestones
An empty café unattended though open
Where, listening, the open windows
Learned her every midnight name.

Rain – part V (day 2265)

(part IV)

I felt good beating away my irrational fear
That this hungry stranger was wild man
He did have some unkempt parts about him
But nothing more than your average man.
He said he’d been working on a pig farm
Just inside the Ontario border
For the last four years
A smell I had keenly detected
When I first met him.
He warmed over as he drank the tea
And soon he was calmer
As the dog stopped growling at the stranger
The fire I kept going I’m sure
Also brought up his spirits.
I fed him toasted bread, jam, and eggs
And sent him off to the barn
Before darkness set in.

Rain – part II (day 2262)

(part I)

I hadn’t brought my axe with me
But the dog started to growl
At the stranger huddling there
Back turned to me,
I stood there a while
So he wouldn’t get startled
Which didn’t work too well,
He jumped a foot in the air
When the dog barked at his back
Turning around quickly
With an evil look in his snarl
But I still feel I may have mistook evil
For hunger the man had.

part III

Stay the Same (day 2237)

(him)
As I step into forgiveness
Where do your soft touches go?
Sun drops touching our ground tomorrow
Oyster magic on our table goes round
Sounds of a midnight loon.

Stay the same
Stay the same
Stay the same

(her)
I am not here for your darkness
Like a widow in her healthy garden
I will step softly into light
A letter from a stranger I did not know
Tears still seem to fall.

Stay the same
Stay the same
Stay the same

(him)
Will you lift your eyes to meet me
At your sandstone arched wooden door
Will I have to forget you
Blind shall be my stepping stone
Close my eyes and see no more.

Stay the same
Stay the same
Stay the same

(her)
Like your kindness as you enter
My heart is woven ever faster
Than my feet can henceforth take me
Softly over meadow floors
Flowers in my hand remind me.

Stay the same
Stay the same
Stay the same

(him)
Then I shall not ever let you
Go a day without more laughter
Go a day without my song
I cannot say without this flutter
I see soft horizons ever after.

Stay the same
Stay the same
Stay the same

(her)
I shall depart and let your laughter
Be the log jam of my spring
So that soon my winter prior
Shall be our summer blossom orchard
I shall hold on.

Stay the same
Stay the same
Stay the same

(him)
In your absence let my letter
Touch your breast pocket in tender softness
Let my vision hold your mind
As my strong hand shall press on
Ever yours, ever yours.

Stay the same
Stay the same
Stay the same

No More Trees, Money’s For Me (day 2064)

It’s ok that we cut down these trees for warmth
Let’s not get upset about our mountain
Turned crater, shipped to the moon,
Our water is a good memory, a clean memory
A clean memory for my dry lips
Afraid of this purple water
Maybe my dinosaur bones will take me home
To a land full of ten year old trees
Where water flushes the land clean
No more dirty top soil: eroded,
Home where the magical golden clouds
Hover just above the skyline, stinking
And water is just slightly brown
Mycelia? No, my bill fold needs more dinosaur bones
To sink into these fresh water lakes
Chopsticks, chopsticks, chopsticks trees
Get these poles off to the mill
Down that road of rubber and oil
More dinosaur bones and I’m ready to kill
Floating at 70 miles an hour
In plastic rocket ships, towing plastic bricks
And you there, strange looking person
How many toes do you have? You’re not one of us
Your skin is funny and your smell’s different
Let me see your papers that say many things
I don’t believe you can grow your beans here
See, my dead trees and stretched metal rings
Say: ‘NO TRESPASSING’
Get out, leave us alone
You’re filling us with lies
Unless you’ve got tits, beers, football, and guns
Money’s for me, and less of you.

Moon at Midnight – Part IX (day 1983)

(part VIII)

That first night Amy put an extra serving
Of stew on for me
With the most delicious dumplings I’ve had
This side of the Mississippi
And a most rare treat of cookies
I couldn’t say no to
As we ate, Clarinet’s big eyes
Kept finding me and we’d laugh and giggle
For I wasn’t used to strangers, either!

I did not have any of Frank’s ferments
That he had made himself
And was quite proud of
I had sworn off any alcohol
Since the devil had taken Emma, my sister,
Off with her and a shotgun
But this I didn’t tell ol Frank
Too kind of a man he was.

As dawn broke, I was already awake
I had elected to sleep outside
Beside their fire pit
Keeping a low fire going for most of the night
That affording me some enjoyable heat
And kept the dogs close
I was eager to see more of their spread
Which I think Frank picked up on,
Showed me his garden,
They had two sheep and one goat
The goat they said was a wedding present
From Amy’s parents
And two good looking quarter horses
He was very proud of.

We decided that the best thing I could help them with
Was to help fall two cedars
And buck and chop for the oncoming winter
They were already quite prepared
But I could see that Frank was a smart man
And knew what needed to be done
When somebody was asking what could be done.

At first we used his two-man saw
That must have been two meters long
To cut down the carefully selected trees
You don’t really know the sound of a falling tree
Until you’ve stood on the ground that shakes
When one of those silent giants falls
The two that we picked were about
Sixty cm in diameter
And with Frank’s well kept saws
We had the both of them on their sides
Within half an hour
For the rest of the first two days we made our way
Up and down the trees
First cutting off all the branches
Then bucking everything into
Thirty cm rounds
It took the better part of the next three days
To chop the rounds into
What could then be used in Amy’s warm oven.

part X

Memories Walk (day 1867)

I think a stranger walks away
Knowing from all a little more
Every time he steps outside
And leaves behind his mopped floor.
I think a parent walks towards
The object of themselves
To feel attachment in everything,
Mind, body, spirit, and soul.
I think a lover pulls towards
Sweet nectar of every fruit
To behold grace, to sweetly ignite,
Set fire to burn the loot.
I think a friend never knows
What brings them back again,
And if they do, they’re surely reckless
For nothing stays as memory remains.

Ode to a Small Rabbit (day 1842)

You there, bouncing everywhere,
What alerts you, I’m sorry I’ve scared.
Bounce away, hop along
I am not here to cause you wrong
I am just a passing stranger
Who lives across the way.
These are the plants that I have sown
This is the grass that tickles my toes
And now, see here, we both can share
Bounding here and there and everywhere.