The emptiness of

possibility

One hand clapping

— in the wind

 

(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)

I’m not going to

watch you leave

but I’ll revel in the fact

you’re gone …

I’m not going to say

goodbye

while I bask in the silence

heard …

I’m not going to speak

your name

but I’ll covet what stays

unsaid …

I’m not going to return

your love

while throwing our tryst

— to the wind

 

(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)

Humanity

comes before

the fact

Sentimentality

comes

after

One steeped

in joy

the other remorse

To shout from

the basement

— or rafters

 

(The New Room: August, 2025)

The last curtain came down

one evening at nine

its drapery falling

to signal ‘it’s time’

The theater dark

all stagehands have gone

alone in her presence

my final swan song

The exit door opens

a new crowd appears

applauding me onward

past laughter and tears

With one final bow

but never so sure

eternity clapping

— forever’s encore

 

(The Bryn Mawr Theater: August, 2025)

 

Stay in the

moment

Time but

a myth

Capture

the essence

Whose instant

encrypts

The truth

of the matter

The heart

of it all

Where feelings

explode

In prescience

— recalled

 

(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)

A master of time

the true lord of himself

Eternity on hold

the moment indwelt

 

The world at his beckon

tomorrow recalled

This instant his present

— forever enthralled

 

(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)

Writing without

imagery

Breathing without

air

Seeing without

vision

Loving without

care

 

Words without

meaning

Voice without

song

Hope without

promise

Night without

— dawn

 

(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)

As good

as they got

Clapton

Allman and Page

Their music

still borrowed

the Delta

on stage

 

Technique

in the offing

devoid

of the pain

As juke joints

and crop shares

sing out

— in refrain

 

(The New Room: August, 2025)

 

To bring forth the truth

 — most holy

To bring forth the light

— Divine

 

(1^st Book Of Prayers: August, 2025)

You love the Ocean

as it comes

I love the Ocean

as it goes

Caught in its tide

of becoming

Washed in the change

— of its flow

 

(Yarmouth Massachusetts: September, 1974)