Rusty Hinges The wind is coarse out of the north and all the skies are black and death debates the rustic gate and waters up the glass. Beyond it all, beyond the pall is warmth in a degree some like behind the flashing sign that tells me I am free. Sit I and ponder, here, and there, and yonder playing instruments in tune on rusty hinges the soul singes or rises on high, too soon. And somewhere out there, I know not where in the darkness, death awaits to hear the floor creak and the hinges squeak and so to plot my fate. Enter then I the dark, naked, my soul is stark and death, alerted to my imposture will strike first with its vampire thirst -- but soul or body's disventure? 1966 Upon the Square At Morning Tide Upon the square they danced in time On the fluid mirror with their colored rhyme And lit the dark trying to be gay But you could tell it was night time anyway. When then from the East the sun arose And so it is the blue sky grows And warmth embraces the luscious green And lifts away the misty screen. And there was the rack and whipping post And the red and dry of aridic roast And the stained ghost flesh left to die And there was the warmth, the green, and the sky. 1966 Weariness The willow bows its weary head to weep, weep, weep and in weariness, all I want is sleep, sleep, sleep. 1966 Sonnet Rebuke me not, for the breath of love that has spirited your hair is not mere fantasy but life itself -- haunted by you -- and but a breeze off a boundless sea; for the thoughts that unending stay images of you there next to me; for hopeless love I'd move the world for though you say 'forever' it can't be. Rather, sweet love, that my heart might bask in the sunlight of your face; and wear the joy of embrace of your ocean eyes, as my fingers frolic through your sunset hair. Decree I might devour time in audience caress for I could not love you more or love you less. 1975 Sonnet II Daughter of the summer, child of the morn With every breath your beauty grows At every honor my heart slows By sweet love for you, I am torn. Goddess of my every thought, siren of my mind Beyond my passion on Olympus you dwell But enslaved toward you my desires swell The gods avenge such love in this hellish bind. 'Tis vanity I dare such love, it brings me chains Does Tantalus yet suffer such unquenched thirst Oh, have the gods bound on me a punishment still worse? Damn the gods, though I love so, joy in me remains I cast contempt as rocks at them, perhaps to sow A love in your godess heart to dash away my woe. 1975 # 381 Why must I in the valleys always trip and fall? Why must I stand on summits and echo out my call? When I walk through the vineyards the grapes are wet and round and yet when I am swimming I always slip and drown? Why does a teardrop always make a flood? Why when they ask for water do I offer blood? 1967 A Silken Softness Darkened shadows of the morning Lie across the murky streets And grey forms are silently emerging But they stand and stare and have no feet. A blizzard sets aloft its roar And sits a blanket all across Whatever morning might uncover So none might recognize the loss. What a glacier we live on Above a million morningtides And so we study what we see Never what it hides. From a cross, from an embrace -- Love's voice, above the storm, Goes unheard, then all is light And all is very, very warm. And now a silken softness falls To cool this hellish heat And grey forms are silently emerging But they stand and stare and have no feet. 1967 For Fayette Precious Lord, Hear me pray, Come and walk next to Faye. Give her strength Give her hope From above. Hear me pray, Be with Faye, Walk with her night and day. Precious Lord, Take her hand, Lead her home. 6/2/98 Continue