The Seasons

“It is something to be deep
in the snow in Winter, to be deep
in the yellow leaves in Autumn,
to be deep in the ripe wheat in Summer,
to be deep in the grass in Spring.”
~ Vincent van Gogh

In the shallows, just below
the translucent skin of Spring,
an opal blue explosion awaiting
the grand thaw of awe to begin.
The riverbank in springtime.
A chestnut tree in blossom dances
along the sparkling spectrum,
under a sky rent by light
. . . on a starry starry night.
Is seeing too much,
beyond your place in time,
… ever, and always, the crime?

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For Ernesto Che Guevara

At last, I’ve seen the past,
and much like the future,
it was murder … Since forever,
Brother Cain came with low blows,
to impose some kind of order.
I thank Christ
some had time to grasp
the hand at task … for chaos
never stops to counts the cost.
But I blame myself for a world
of mayhem ,and disorder,
ever since the canonization
of Che Guevara.

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To Him They Belong

Down to sleep
their souls to keep
innocent, and meek
Shaken …in shock
Grim trauma that seeps
out from the gutter
to reap
Below life’s glitter
where mothers weep
for innocence shattered
beyond all hope
Watch out now
Take care, beware
Given enough rope
all things dark and fearful
… into the deep.

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