IN ROOMS FULL OF LATE  AFTERNOON

In rooms full of late afternoon,

full of fall - blue windows like

slips of ice on the tongue,

in these brown-book libraries of my life,

You are the glowing hearth,

You are the holy sage.

In the counterfeit heat of brilliant leaves,

the sunward leap and tumble,

to clattering dryness and decay,

in this twilight tree of my life,

You are the abiding kernel,

You are the flowing core.

In walking conversations between friends

where confidences flourish like

touches of new fleshed lovers,

in this companionable stroll of my life,

You are the mind filled silence,

You are the concordant word.

And in frenetic wilderness wanderings,

aimless pilgrimages through

bottle toothed lanes and fierce junkyards,

in these back road hitch hikes of my life

You are the sustaining bread

You are the waiting lover.

Clicknext