OUT OF THE BLUE
Here you are again
Ever so fleeting
But ever so here.
At peaceful moments
You arrive from nowhere
Or somewhere deep within.
My hands tense on
The steering wheel;
I feel light headed
As if holding my breath,
Waiting as I did
Those years ago.
I take comfort in knowing
It is only that moment;
Only a moment
And it will be over;
As brief as the time
You shared my life.
In a moment
I will pull into
The parking lot;
My children will race
To the doors
Of their school.
I will move on,
Move forward with my life;
Move on as I did
Those years ago-
Living, learning, growing
And loving.
But a part of me will stay
In that moment,
That fleeting paralyzed
Moment
When you revisit
From somewhere
Out of the blue.
THE STORM
The bull rested between
Stiff brown weeds;
Death long ago devoured
His body, leaving
His shell to rot
And the flies to feast
And make their home.
We stood as one
On top of the hill
In the abandoned pasture;
Abandoned but for
He who failed escape
With the herd.
Clouds marched toward us
From the west;
Thunder beating
And lightening clashing
Like giant symbols.
We watched the parade
Of early May storm
And waited with the dead,
Not speaking or moving;
Our breaths peaceful
In contrast to the pace
Down by the farmer’s creek
Not fifteen minutes before.
White mist appeared
On the horizon;
Mesmerizing frosted day,
Inching closer and closer,
Overtaking the river
Then cozy river cabins
Where families huddled
In corners or watched
Cautiously from their
Picture window framed
Living rooms or
Beneath their tin-covered
Porches.
Blanketed the school,
The playground
And the old orchard
On the edge of town
Like a curtain of
Frosting gracefully engulfing
Freshly fried doughnuts
At the local doughnut shop.
Veiled the dairy farm
And burgeoning
Fields of corn and soybeans.
Finally detecting defiant
Intruders to its siege,
It hastened its march.
Our eyes met,
Seemed to pause
For a moment as
If waiting for us to run
Away panicked
Or surrender our souls.
As if waiting
For assurance at the
Last moment we would leap
From its path like the
Hoodlums who arrogantly
Defy the drivers’
Of our local roads,
Refusing to free the path,
Daring them but scattering
When it is clear the driver’s
Will is more fierce.
Warring of wills
Between it’s ocean mass
And we two who
Were not afraid of the risk
Of conquer by the storm
Of nature, beast, or love;
We knew which would flinch first
To win power and control.
Relief came to the
Rotting bull corpse.
As the flies fled
To take cover
As rain drops thudded
Upon the stiffening hide
Like muffled beats on a drum.
The waterlogged curtain
First devoured our toes
Then our noses and
Finally our hands
Entangled behind our backs.
It could not scare us;
Could not motivate a
Run, a scream, a cry
Or any hint of defeat.
Exhausting its fury,
The parade continued
Its impassioned march
Never pausing
Except that fleeting
Moment we stood
Face to face.
