Along the ridge, stolid spruce
whose brawny branches stretch,
and flex and strive to catch
some extra rays of Sun.
Higher on the hill, a Castle
whose towers aspire to pierce
the clouds. Even higher, ...
Just a bit above the din.
But in the Forest deep,
unsuspecting Prey become the Meat.
Of wily Wolves and Vultures sly.
Waiting patiently. To pounce.
How many times have I
jumped on your Ass?
Today I kissed your
sorry Ass good-bye!
In this dream, I'm
a Hard Rubber Ball.
I bounce and careen
to where I imagine
your Ass is heading.
A triple Amaretto
poured over the Rocks,
fuels this expedition.
My words become wings
of taut sailcloth,
lifting you upwards.
Soaring on a Thermal
beyond the Tree Tops,
you are flying away.
Following the Beat,
My Hand sings of
your Final Approach.
A sacred private thing.
Small and Splendid.
Go gently, in Peace.
And In Peace may you
Revel with the Gentler
Spirits of Creation.
( Farewell to one who died of AIDS )