| Bind Up My Life A Work in Progress Page 4 |
| A Texas Afternoon Heat rising from the sidewalk Little ripples on a vertical beach And we, hapless Crusoes, Wading the atmosphere Waiting for low tide |
| Crane I sit on the bank I look and listen�. The frogs in the reeds across the way Burst into their own particular kind Of impromptu choral arrangement� The wind is blowing through the willows A bird, far off, Slices in its insistence In measures and stanzas Ever waiting the reply The inlet long ago slowing Into tiny exotic ripples Along the shimmering green skin Moving ever so slowly Within itself�.. White crane Rising up up up Into the branches of a dead tree Standing in the middle of the inlet� Lonely monument� All leaves and outer bark gone, The sun has bleached it gray. And the ever wind has twisted And worn smooth the inner fibers It rises its up up up Like a smooth gray torso Against the living green Arms, twisted and forlorn To the heavens. Now to commune with cranes I wonder what secrets they share. There in the great within While I on the bank With straining ear listening And hoping to hear. |
| Still and Silent Sister Still and silent sister, The winter was a mild one And Spring only offered a few days Of tumultuous joy and sadness Where your passions spilled over And ran down the ruddy cheeks� Now, in the zenith of the summer sun You lie still and silent Waiting and contemplating�. A turtle slips down quietly To hide behind Your shimmering green skin The crows, Black robed prophets Announce my coming In warning and accusation The cicadas, unmoved, Having turned from the world Drone on the ancient song of the seasons I hear something scurry Perhaps something furry Pausing at the business of life To mark my coming, Then beginning again the business�. And you, My still and silent sister Still you lie Waiting, watching, listening Keeping your own council On matters such as these Contemplating the autumn Of yet to be Lost in your own eternity |
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