a lone light shining
on a relic of another era
a poignant picture
of a night filled
with premonitions
as yet unrecognizable
portents of loss and grief
simultaneously seeds
of new connection
on this night
I flip the coin of grief
to its other side of praise
and bask in the memories
of grace and laughter,
beauty and love
magnified somehow
through their very loss
framed today by sun and shade
sprouted from the seam
at the base of a wall
allowed to live
by the maintenance crew
long enough to begin to stand tall
*my approximation of “New Grove” in Old English…
through the window of a warehouse
on display only by default
I wonder
what has become
of this horn
that life
has left it here
who will be the one
to offer their own breath
to give it a voice once more
old dogs and new tricks
always ready to find a
new hole in the wall
two tracks, one river
how high does the water rise
at its most swollen
what has scraped the foundation
in such a circular way?
where the track of the trance inducing rhythm
of the clickety-clack
and the trail of the trance inducing hum
of rubber on asphalt
coincide
there is a crossing over
this is a place of high energy
a place of great potential
and thus a place of great danger
as are all places where crossing over
becomes possible
but the greater danger
is in the effects of the trances
induced by either one
like any tool
if one is unable to achieve
the ends the tool makes possible
without using the tool
then the tool
has more power over
the one who uses it than that one
has over the tool
consider the value of a phone
to someone with poor communication skills
or the value of a chainsaw
to someone unable to fell a tree
with an axe
often the effects are only visible
further downstream
but they are no less real
for being delayed
in this case
we must consider
the effect of trance induction
by these various tools
on those who lack the ability
to find their own way into trance
or the knowledge of why they might
be possessed of a need to do so
and now we can see
the face of this old building
long ago closed up
and weathering in stages
wearing out paint and plywood
an oblique vantage
looking past an old storefront
and down this old street
what lurks around the corner?
not much on this January day
a long languishing trailer sinks
into the quicksand of time
as the hard pavement
beneath its feet
gives way
to the press of
gravity and steel
and long inattention
a storage unit cheaper
to keep than to haul away
screens without windows
these eyes see a cold grey world
throughout each winter
and yet hold visions of spring
as well as summer and fall
also tinged with grey…
make no mistake, however –
this lack of color
is not in these eyes but in
the gravel and the pavement