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Collected Poetry

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Passion Eddy  

Book two of impromptu trilogy.

  Men and the Moon


Black pines like immense sentries in the other light...
from the naked, oak limbs the after-rain dripping.

A vapor rises from my healing tub with the hope
to assist.  Tonight a woman drifts across the sky

with stars for eyes, fleeing her cruel lover,
the half moon.  Her lips the true conciliation of
      some other desire,
I watch with wonder like the man in the womb—
weakened and unempowered as the nocturnals tangled

in the berry vines.  The moon illumines my whiteness
and then the moon is obstructed {Jascha Heifetz and Bach}

and searches in vain.  What a man can learn from
gazing upward!  See how the air traffic confounds him.



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