spring in the stars….

the stars
of winter
are brighter
than those
of summer
as if
to remind us
that
soon
the earth will have
new spring blossoms
brighter
than
those we knew
and days
warmer
than
the love
we lost

sunny days and sweet wine..

there are times when life
seems to melt so perfectly
into flowers’ blooms

the bells of summer…

the dead
will not
call out
your name
nor warn you
of death’s approach
no  hollow brass bells
will ring out
gabriel’s horn
will be
the last
sound
heard
listen
what do
you
hear
as
the sun
breathes life
into
the day

last dance…

listen to the music
of the sun dancers
chanting away
in the day
blowing fragrant kisses
at the sun
hoping to persuade it
to stay awhile longer
so they may dance
upon the wind
and tease
the last butterflies
that mingle with
the autumn leaves
wayward flyers
to some sunny retreat
avoiding
winter’s cold touch
just one last dance
is their sweet request
one that even summer
cannot refuse
what shall we call this dance
ah yes
indian summer

resurrection…

in the summer
after the sun has been turned off
the old people like roaches
seep out of the smoke covered bricks of their apartments
and pause upon the metal escape routes
shaped like the bars of a prison
and stare upon the street below
as if they could see a model-t