Tutelage of Me

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Gazing past you

Seeking solace in the wint’ry blue, that I might not be forced to look at you

Teacher
Distractor
Attempted diminisher

Before your tutelage of me, recall
Blank pages you were
Poor and lonely were you

Now, you’ve your green

What I was born with, you have stolen and will die with, you pray
But, we know what we know

As does God





Repentant

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On look out
Why, I?

Wanting her, Liberty
Freedom from all the ways I’ve done her wrong

Or forgiveness

Her eyes, corroded-coppery
Bore one capital “L” unto mine skin

“A Mighty Woman,” I was warned

And so I came, tired
And she welcomed me
And I extinguished her, still

June Will Be Okay

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Deciding this morning whether
To be afraid for our weather

For this Earth
For its Underlings

I noticed triumph
Its and Theirs

I saw green, cold tears
Gladness!

There was little left to do
Open wide the window

Cry out
Three cheers for a cold victory!

No Photos

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The morning I think of giving up
Shades of moss green and orchid peaceably pull me back
As an elder, in Auto-Tune
Promising a child that dancing days lie ahead
An altogether different morning, now
That deserves
I deserve
A wholly-new and holy mind

Wild Erased

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Just settle down
Tell it to your manic
Who used to threaten the world
If it harmed a hair on my head?

Just go gently
Take your wild, man
Ever contemplate the green
Would snuff it out for settled-down love?

“The Currency of Grace”

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Surprised to see the a.m. sun
Afire
Shining through
The door I’d forgotten I’d opened
Left open
To remind myself I’m alive
Praise

A part of this world
Apart from this world
And out of this world, too

Anyway, first, foremost
Tending to all the green
I thought to stop, I felt ashamed
Guilt
For all I’m giv’n, undeserved
But, my friend told me the currency
Grace

Processor

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It was as simple a thing as pesto
The green of it
The freshness of it
The scent, that, make no mistake,
Made me forget the difficult bridge
I’d thought to jump from
But instead crossed, then burned
On purpose
For good