Watering a Flower

  

Meditation is mellifluous
melody ignoring the choo-
choo train inside my head,

but I have been growing
better, forth in time.
There are meadows

I will never enter – renter
of everything. Nothing I meet
in this life I keep. Honest. Lover

bearing forever strands
of hair? God, infinity is
so infinite when glimpsed.

Such the rose moon
grows on this
specific sky.

(originally published in Count Seeds With Me, Spring 2022)

Dream with Patchwork Moon

My love, I want to show you this strange moon:
a quilted wine and blue, half the charcoal sky–
but you are playing a game, a Crash Bandicoot

offshoot where you are a humanoid frog who jumps
and spins across 3-D landscapes. I ask you please
come outside there is a nervous crowd gathering

for this cosmic anomaly. But no one dies because
I wake and recall my childhood summers spent
on the cold, brown, teddybear carpet of my basement,

hands on controller, eyes mesmerized by polygons.
My father would slowly descend the stairs then ask
me to walk with him– as he often did the last

years of his life– that there was a whole world
out there, the world, and if I would walk once
with him he would show me, please, just once.

 

(originally published in Vagabond City Lit, Summer 2019)