At The Bell

Fling that thing to the Moon
That thing that’s ailing you
Red flags, white flags, too

It’s not a day too soon
Let’s leave crazy to loons
Whose flightiness consumes

Consider this day new
Its call goes out to you
To sing the champion’s tune

We Begin

An hour, now, clutching the cold morning coffee, an acrid-filled, comfortless cup.

Still dark.

Consumed, we, with what’s bearing down at the door — bellowing “more, more, and more!”

Its roar.

Will this new blanket be warm enough, this day sustain hope beyond the front-porch light?

Windows fogged.

Still, dawn’s bright, there, without, meets a heat — long-stored and stoked — here, within.

We Begin.

Ode To The Students & Those Who Want Them Well

We are silvering

We are not tinsel, flat
Nor tinny, shallow sound whose echoes won’t be known a year from now
We are, “Mr. Watson, come here. I want to see you.”

We are precious shine
Mined from the deep
Ribbons of pricelessness chiseled from someplace dark we’d entered into
Unknowingly, perhaps, but prepared nonetheless
Thence emerged, the metal of us hard-earned

We cannot be traded, bartered, or sold
We are made of this
We are made from this

Will they see us in next century’s sky?
Yes! And, ’til the 12th of Never

Canyons, ancient, will carry our collective voice

We are silvering, and are not second-place

No Othering

We must sit alone through This
No one has our back

Not forsaking sunlight then
Nor the sturdiness of these vintage legs

Doors behind us closed, by intent
Facing East, where will our colors lead us

What mystery does the morning hold
What certainty does twilight promise

Coupling

Something about 6 thirty
A.M.
Coffee calling
Birds beckoning
You

Something about 10 minutes
Absent-mindedly
Clutching comfort
Begin burning
Me

Song at the ready
Matchstick in hand
In harmony
Afire for it
We

Elevated

Not taking no for an answer, She
Dressed up sexy for the crimes of He

Master-mechanic motivating, She
A fine-tuned engine emerges, He

Speaking in the same tongue, You & Me
Ascend from sorrow’s basement, We

Still Giants

If suffocation and the longest darkness remain
Be unbound, dear sister.

If shame and the fear of whispers pervade
Be as a giant, precious brother

Stay my best friend, I will stay yours, this only we will know
Feel air returning, own your height, live in peace and grow