How Dare You Quote Whitman

Sonny, (I can call you that because I’ve grey and am much older than you)

You don’t look like a man who’dve (proper grammar? I surely don’t care)

Said what you said (but you said it, and it stole my heart)

In Chapter 25 (chapter twenty-five., to be precise)

Or even a man who’dve been able to “focus” this long (though you lay claim to seeing its virtue, so I’ll believe you)

Given the amount of time (I’ve spent more than my fair share of it and secretly believe it’s ubiquitous)

And number of exhalations I know (I know) it took away

From your habitual daydreaming (I’ve a penchant for it, too)

I could (sadly, I will) continue sharing unrequited love-jabs here

But it’s late and the (glorious, but damned) mosquitoes have made their entrance

So I laugh (always — most often at myself), and tuck your bookmark (thanks) in my bra strap (ha) instead of your book (your book, bravo) and go inside for the night (and, how dare you quote Whitman?!)

Goodnight (goodnight)

Vibing

I commit to no shadows

Self-imposing today’s low light

The only contrast I’ll allow, the soft snow falling’s concession to percolating coffee

This quieted timbre carries me

And I, it

Throughout these next daylight hours, should I spend them inclined to chase light and false-bravado song

I am grey-orchid today and candles tonight

Silent, but vibing

Breaking

There are times when shadows will not do
Will not do
Will not do
When their storied presence pains the eye
Pains the eye
Pains the eye
And I see wrong mystery, dark’ning doors
Dark’ning doors
Dark’ning doors

Dawg

Up in years now 
Am I correct or does the grey belie

And with each passing, Day
You touch me more
You phase me 
Damned you

Touch me less
Take your sixth sense elsewhere

Day In

Find me
Stranger
In your 
Saunter
Wherewith deliberate 
Speed 

No
Sliver 
Of glass
No
Shade
Of grey 

No
Shadows 
Of soft introduction
Shapeshifting
The way
Between us