Our human condition frayed
It’s not yet summertime
And the garden party is well underway
Right now the coreopsis
Is on my mind with
It’s Dionysian dancing
To the rhythm of the wind
And melody of the sun
But you know how it goes
Always the same old pollination story
The insects must do all the work
While the flowers get all the glory
And Nature remains profligate
A hopeless spendthrift
Especially when it comes
To matters of life and death
No more digging in the garden
At least until tomorrow
When I turn sixty-eight
Now life begins to hold
The promise of a jigsaw
Where the pieces all fit
Except some have fallen
To the floor
And after finishing this poem
I’ll resume searching for them
More light
More light
The great poet said
But here on the darkening patio
It’s well enough to sit and listen
To the chittering birds
For whether they stem
From drugs guns or money
It takes a long while
To clear toxins
From your body
And to level up
Beyond fear and desire
In the extended play
Of a poet’s life
online for the first time
today to renew my license
We live in a land
of enjambment
and enchantment
where no one is expected
to read through to
the bottom line's end
And while my outward vision
has deteriorated lately
my inward keeps
improving with age
(although it's equally true
my third eye gets
more easily tired now
when working outside
on a bright spring day)
A younger poet’s
intimacy with decay
must be hard won
whereas such knowledge
comes naturally to me
as an older one
For whom each line crossed
has earned a distinctive edge
All day long
Rows of clouds
Drift across the horizon
Wanderers who will never return
But for three nights now
You have appeared
In a dream so vivid
I could touch your flesh
Briefly you spoke
About your long hard journey
Crossing rivers and lakes
In a small fragile boat
Fearfully tossed
By wind and waves
While the capital teems
With the rich and powerful
And their lavish gear
There you stood in the doorway
Scratching your silvery head
A sign of life’s burdens
A lone and haggard man
No my friend
There’s not a single cloud
In the vast heavens
That could withstand
The rigors borne by
Your weary old frame
Surely you’ll enjoy
A thousand years
Or ten thousand years
Of the greatest fame
But still for now you’re destined
For a lonely and distant grave
夢李白 (之二)
浮雲終日行
遊子久不至
三夜頻夢君
情親見君意
告歸常局促
苦道來不易
江湖多風波
舟楫恐失墜
出門搔白首
若負平生志
冠蓋滿京華
斯人獨憔悴
孰云網恢恢
將老身反累
千秋萬歲名
寂寞身後事
