Looking down,

I’ve been so lucky

 

Looking up,

still more to know

 

Fortune smiles,

the road still open

 

Steeper yet

—but blessed to go

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2020)

 

 

What you first come to learn

when emotions are raw

 

Bakes time eternal,

old men to recall

 

Before holy baptism

and the mirrored decree

 

Lasting impressions

—of what’s meant to be

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2020)

You once gave to me something,

you now want to take back

 

But its cord is umbilical,

my soul thus attached

 

The title to the future

in invisible ink

 

Bleeding free your reluctance

—inextricably linked

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2020)

Behind on my rent…

the door slamming behind

 

A beggar of memories,

doomed to remind

 

Last boxcar of hope

on a railway of dreams

 

From here to tomorrow

—trapped in between

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2020)

Betrothed within,

making love to ourselves

 

Pledging new vows,

to seal every tryst

 

Promises buried,

 a marriage unseen

 

Wedding bells ring

—ever silent and deep

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2020)

Chasing after the flame,

in spite of the heat

 

To bathe in the light

—everything else is dark

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2020)

Decisions that last forever…

choices made every day

 

To commit with our hearts,

our heads in the wind

 

—the difference for Poets to say

 

(St. Mary’s Montana: August, 2020)

The first casualty of war…

truth

 

The last casualty of war…

death

 

Truth fighting death,

beginning to end

 

Questions unanswered

—gravestones contend

 

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2020)

At the far end of the casket,

his girlfriend hugged his wife

 

And told her she was sorry,

that she had tried to steal her life

 

Their tears then ran in unison,

for a man who loved them both

 

The years they shared now testament,

to a choice he left unspoke

 

They never met before this day,

and would never meet again

 

But each knew well the other,

and they almost felt like friends

 

The mistress left, the children wept,

and the grandchildren played outside

 

As his wife looked down, saying: “Your hell has passed,

sleep well my love—goodbye”

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

On the quietest of nights

I can now hear its roar

 

This current hides calmly

what fate has in store

 

Its crashing is consummate,

my drowning awaits

 

Last bend now approaching

—the hour grows late

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August: 2020)