NO BEACH OR SEA SHELLS

My morning walk, so important to me,

Alone with the dark as comfort,

Mondays always into town

Passing poorly maintained

Row houses, then

Without announcement,

Chained to a paint chipped porch,

Two old rusted bikes grab my attention,

Token-less transportation

Better than walking to work.

Inside the journeymen sleep

Dreaming their wishful fantasies,

At best, a kaleidoscopic future.

I understand so little of their lives,

How they survive, feed their children,

Save for a kitchen table or toaster oven.

I’m outside, but I know in my head, I

Need them, their youth, energy, optimism.

They need me too, to pay cash and

Not abuse their delicate dreams.

EDEN LOST

Watercolor by Pat Morgan

Before I was born,

I lived in my mother. 

The sages say,

I was taught wisdom there,

But when I left

The sanctuary of my mother,

I forgot all I had learned. 

Parents and teachers

Do not teach us, as much as

Help us remember. 

Once, in a dream, I recalled

The way it was in the womb:

Warm, cultured, all needs met.

Now I’m awake, I wouldn’t,

Not even if I could,

Go back to Eden.

VISITING THE WTC TRIBUTE

Sitting silently

In the viewing gallery

Staring at a wall filled with

Family pictures of faces lost,

Each different, but the same

Sharing a common fate,

A fellow standing near me

Saw my wet cheek,

“Did you lose someone up there?”

I knew none of them,

I knew none who had lost one of them,

I was equally unrelated to all of them.

Did I lose someone up there?

I lost them all.

My voice failed,

I had no reply.

INSIGHT

I live in a house

Of my own design

With windows and mirrors

Made of glass;

Through my windows

I see people walking,

In my mirrors

I see only myself.

The difference between

A window and a mirror

Is a thin layer of silver;

I lose a piece of myself

Every time I let silver

Come between me and

Seeing other people.