Tired

So much for sleep!
As I spend another night
Looking through books and thoughts,
Lost in the miles of my mental mazes,
Lips turned down, a small frown,
Yawn- browse the web,
Eyes sagging tired,
Drag to bed...
Sleep.

Monday Dream

In my dream

I saw my mom’s old Landlord,

A relic of younger days.

Memory furnished a lucid picture

Of His careworn face

And fatherly demeanor,

The towering height that

Only children see.

He shone with a splendid radiance

And I wanted both

To look away

And look forever.

He was crying
With His hands outstretched,

And looking down I saw

In my hands

An orb of blue and green.

“May I have it back?” He asked,

His voice silent yet intoned

In the reflections in His eyes

And in the recesses of my mind.

I looked at it and looked at Him

And looked away

And though I felt the orb

Lose weight

And harden against my hands,

I made up my mind

And I shook my head

And then I said:

“No.”

Sky

In the night sky,
a green tint to the stars
and their light
shines through the haze.
 
Spinning like a top,
the dizzy stars a spiral of movement
and they whirl,
so busy on their nowhere paths.
 
Whirl, whirl, whirl
and I fall down to watch them
and they don't mind
me watching.
 
A bright star-
my eyes entranced-
and it loops
across the sky,
different from the others
somehow.

Rainy Night

the rain falls in heavy sheets
and on the pavement beats and beats,
and soaks into my hair and clothes
until, weighed-down, I wander home,
where waiting for me is no fire
but only the incessant desire
to fly like rain out of the clouds 
and floating down, cover like a shroud
the city streets where raindrops run
until brought up by the midday sun.

Urban Winter

winter waits to show itself,
hiding in the city streets
and darting down alleys
to avoid a passing glance.
it tracks a paltry path of dropped-down leaves, 
yet in its haste to hide
allows others to dance 
hanging
from the stems of half-dormant trees,
and but for chilly nights
there is no hint
of winter here.