100 Short Poems
The glorious golden future
Somehow never quite arrived.
Was always occurring someplace else
while here one dealt daily with
bad breath, late payments, heartburn, and
the detritus of dreams that disappoint.
Well enough alone
We seldom leave it.
There is always a need
to make it just a bit better.
Gregarious, those attempts all cluster
and insure that well enough is never alone.
Casanova
His colorful young life was knit together by adventures:
a famous escape from a prison, a memorable duel,
the ocean of courtesans, married women, nuns, and girls,
all the fair prey there for him to woo, convince, dupe or pay.
Then, his vigor flagging, thirty years to recall, record and revise.
Sliding in
It's something we all do in various ways.
Floss between the teeth for better oral hygiene.
For the athletic, into a base just before the ball.
Fingers and sundry appendages into what's its.
Best, under the sheets and into a welcome bed.
Desolation
A lifetime ago happiness crossed
an invisible border all unaware,
stayed too long in distant places,
lost its passport in a careless moment,
and now cannot find a way back.
The cynical
await that clarifying moment
or the difference in illumination
in which at last they will finally
recognize the hidden strangers
among all the familiar faces.
Imagination
helped the four faith-filled teenage girls
discover tears in the lifelike glass eyes
of the parish plaster Virgin Mary.
Not so long after, it led them to form a band
and cover songs by Dylan and the Beatles.
Forgetting
A hat. Keys. Gloves. Notes. An expensive umbrella. But
also documents. Good advice. Warnings. Even memories.
So much forgetting, and so often, that, blithely unconcerned,
we forget that we have forgotten and so are able to live
calm and contented lives as if we were exempt from loss.
Early adventure (Kennebunkport, ME)
All unaware of the dangers involved,
how could two exploring boys resist
the weathered rowboat with oars found
becalmed in the tidal reeds and rushes
beside the river running rapidly out to sea.
Recollection
Stepping innocently at first
down the decades of my life
but unable finally to find a narrative -
my mouth and memory both now
filled full with the bitter.
The Principal
said, twice, "You two go."
We didn't want to
leave the other boys in the chapel
kneeling now with backs straight
the way only ours had been before.
The Lost Idea
was memorable enough to have made an impression once
but then, perhaps because of life's distractions, was left
unattended to, its promise completely undeveloped
until one day your mind stirs and blindly gropes for it
like the tongue returning to where a tooth once was.
Reflection
The journey may be long
with no map or compass,
the route most often unclear.
How much is unlooked for
that arrives with the days of a life
First Excuse
Unable all that time to make choices,
it was then not my fault that,
afloat in the wet and warm,
I made no plans for
what was to come.