Old Poems Never Die

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2007

It’s  quiet after the storm—-

A Nor-Easter born

Of warm and cold

Furious and bold.

The winds rise high,

Limbs

Creak and moan

The marsh and forest sigh.

Then —-gone,

Sometimes on

Sometimes off

With winter’s random joff.

Heavy snow

From clouds in tumble

Falls

Soft

 slow,

Below

On  white earth:

The dearth of

Summer’s dying

lays

Frozen low.

Silent  now

I wait for you

And you for me,

As we marvel how

A flurry of colors

dance

On a sea of white.

Icy bright

Dormant trees—

A ghost force–

Tremble

In the night.

Dazzling our sight

A sliver moon

In the cosmic room

Of heaven

Shines on us—-

Its starry dream

Real and true,

Drawn on the slate blue

Darkness of an endless whisper.

I hear you calling

Always and forever

Living or dying

Finding home.

The blind hear,

The deaf see,

We make music,

Make life,

Drink wine,

Bake bread,

Sing and dine.

With spirits and angels

We are many,

One in each other

Redeemed at the instant snow falls

In the vortex of a moment.

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