The house is now quiet,

 the children have gone

 

My beard they’ve left ruffled,

 as memories grow long

 

With trains and dolls scattered

 where last they played

 

Their love remains buried

 inside of the maze

 

The cupola harkens

  a last candle there burns

 

As the attic sits waiting

 for the toys to return

 

The old house is silent

 but deep from within

 

Their laughter still hides

  —and my searching begins

 

(Thanksgiving: November, 2016)

 

 

A window framed with memory

 lets in the brightest light

 

Its lock and hasp long since removed

 a journeyman’s delight

 

Casting off the millstone

 the rock of age has come

 

As darkness hides beyond the sash

 —to greet the rising sun

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2018)

Hopes and wishes step aside,

   as new words cut in to dance

 

Painting the floor red

  in lettered steps of eternity

 

Partners now consonant

  a song of celebration

 

Whose lyrics waltz inward

  —in patterns of remembrance

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

 

 

Does trying to disprove

 what I believe

 make you feel better about what

 you don’t…

 

Is your insecurity

 crying out

 that maybe I feel something

 you won’t…

 

Does the depth of my commitment

 bother you so

 leaving you distant

 fearful and alone…

 

Like a branch that’s now broken

 swinging high in the tree

 one strong gust

  —and your fated to go

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

 

Deep into the night of the harrowing dawn,

  old voices went astray

 

And fast on the morning of no return,

  final judgment came to stay

 

Crashing like a wave was the prophet’s voice,

  this time not to be ignored

 

Washing away all excuse and false remorse

  with damnation—forgotten Lord

 

(Grantham New Hampshire: March, 2015)

 

We can all think

  differently

 

While instantaneously feeling

  the same

 

We can politically straddle the

  great divide

 

While below loving the canyons

  and plains

 

We can put all prejudice and

  opinion aside

 

When the outcome is cast

  zero-sum

 

And in those moments our greatness

  calls loudest and true

 

With the blood of a freedom

  —hard won

 

(Grantham New Hampshire: March, 2015)

 

Will the pieces of the life you’ve lived

  come together at the end?

 

Will the times that you reflected

  straighten your path out, free of bends?

 

Are the places that you visited

  more than way stops that you chose?

 

Are the feelings that you left with

  still inside you—heaven knows?

 

Are your children still in contact,

  do they ask you what you think?

 

Are your parents long forgotten

  as you pour yourself a drink?

 

Are the days recounted backwards

  with the best all left behind?

 

Does the silence serve to haunt you

  with those things you cannot find?

 

Does the laughter fall on deafness,

  do the smiles pass you by?

 

Are your friends left off your guest list

  with no time for them to find?

 

Are the pieces of your puzzle

  pointed sharp, and ill to fit?

 

Does your conscience wear a muzzle

  with the blame an endless pit?

 

Is it what you said you wanted

  when you started down this path?

 

Or are you now among the hunted

  in a bad choice aftermath?

 

If before you’re gone, one chance flew by

  a difference then to make

 

Would you hang on tight to all the lies,

  or embrace this change of fate?

 

And if you do, the words will say,

  you almost got it wrong…

 

Before you called those choices back

  —and changed them into song

 

(Grantham New Hampshire: March, 2015)

 

 

Manipulating reality,

 the moment concealed

 

Manipulating reality,

 what’s virtual ‘real’

 

Manipulating reality,

 the keys push and drain

 

Manipulating reality,

 technology reigns

 

Manipulating reality,

 fantasy schools

 

Manipulating reality,

 apostasy rules

 

Manipulating reality

 all cursors and screens

 

Manipulating reality,

 lost memory undreamed

 

Manipulating reality,

 electrons control

 

Manipulating reality

 a hard driven soul

 

Manipulating reality,

 love crashes and burns

 

Manipulating reality

  —truth cyber unlearned

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2018)

Long before the clocks ticked,

  the garden was burning

 

The law had been laid down,

   only the animals ran free

 

Long before the clocks ticked,

  two lovers were yearning

 

The power, the struggle

  —the lust to deceive

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

From silver to gold,

  the years marched along

 

As language emboldened

  its words into song

 

The grey of my twilight

  a welcome relief

 

All reasoned excuses

  another’s belief

 

As the winds through the canyon

  blow the valley to sand

 

This ending now welcome

  —beginning again

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)