Aching Sunday

Tremendous love, resides inside

As an aria
Weightless and burdensome
How is it that such fullness
This nothing less than aching
Arrives and leaves me
Walking
Feeling
As a ghost on Sunday
An otherwise fine, fine day

And there are no ears to touch?

Boy Upon The Hill

Nothing’s fitting

Not the double barrel shotgun you placed against my heart
Not your blindfold upon me anymore
Nor your murderous silence

I’ve outgrown your cowardice
The singe of alone you always left me is fading away

But the boy you killed, I’ll live with daily
Stolen from me, the memory gorgeous

The boy upon the hill calling me
Kissing me
After some schoolbell tolled

All these decades, still

Outmoded

Throw me over as an anchor
First, untether me
Cast aside this castaway

Abandon me afterall
To my turmoil, my need
So that you would sail

And should we meet
As ghost-ships might?
May it be as passing

Daily

Thick with it, time was
But the naïve do not know to know
All the breath was of wishing ghosts
The music -mere lawful lies 
And none were bowed but to their own bruised hearts
Sing me away they said

Legend

The water most blue
And the wake so gentle

As the fabled ghost, now untied, makes its way away, away

The confused and seasick struggles to fix a gaze
With a hope that makes legends prove true