No vocabulary

No vocabulary
Or language can express
This fullness of blossoms
The lack of emptiness

Exposure to sunlight
Bountiful, bleached and bright
No shadows or darkness
With wide width and high height

Most birds are not soaring

Most birds are not soaring
No need for altitude
High above the treetops
There is no multitude

Here I am on the ground
When given wings to fly
Choosing not to ascend
But questioning the why

From the World Trade Centers

From the World Trade Centers
Up to Central Park West
We walk through Manhattan
Without taking a rest

Through quiet TriBeCa
Then Soho and the Arch
The flatiron pointing
And so northward we march

A horizontal sleep

A horizontal sleep
On a hillside where sheep
Would find the landscape steep
Together there we laid

Beneath a sky blue dome
No urgency to roam
From this place we call home
And the life that we made

And now ten becomes nine

And now ten becomes nine
The unraveling twine
Standing here next in line
As generations purge

Only March to July
How fast our seasons fly
Echoes of lullaby
Are the bars of a dirge

What does it matter if

What does it matter if
There's one less drop of rain
It makes no difference
To the cloud or terrain

The flowers would notice
If all the rain should stop
But would not bow their heads
For just a missing drop

My wings are wide open

My wings are wide open
Colors basking beneath
An afternoon sun that's
A crowning laurel wreath

Achievement has been made
The pinnacle, the cap
One last look at the view
Before wings start to flap

Unremarkable day

Unremarkable day
The rotation complete
Nothing significant
No miraculous feat

The daisies are blooming
And at night their white heads
Are reflecting moonlight
That glances at their beds

I had forgotten this

I had forgotten this
A detail of the past
Just a simple nothing
Not intended to last

The shape of a house key
The worn treads of a shoe
The wood grain of a floor
A certain shade of blue

Darkness in good spirits

Darkness in good spirits
It twirls in a black cape
A dirge dancing polka
A celebrated rape

A punch glass of poison
Let the party commence
I'm the entertainment
Applaud at my expense

In the land of abstract

In the land of abstract
Finding words to explain
The randomness of life
All its pleasures and pain

Too tired for poetry
Measure, meter and rhyme
Seeking more clarity
The elusive sublime

Not easy to transplant

Not easy to transplant
When the ball of the root
Is wide as the branches
From the trunk to offshoot

But look at the landscape
And the color of soil
It is better to move
Than to struggle and toil

Hope and expectations

Hope and expectations
Not in it for the race
Not a competition
Or award for first place

The singularity
And accomplishments won
For attempting the course
Not the sound of the gun

Everything falling short

Everything falling short
Bridges failing to reach
Time not healing old wounds
Boats that never find beach

The distance to future
Although it once seemed long
Is here right before us
In an unfinished song

Where are the buttercups

Where are the buttercups
We held beneath our chins
To see our love of butter
With our two youthful grins

Offices and airports
With deadlines and spreadsheets
Unrealistic goals
And numbers we can't meet

A tree for a witness

A tree for a witness
Perhaps a passing bird
Sound as big as thunder
Or a traveling herd

An exclamation point
Celebration of sound
A loud echo between
The stratosphere and ground

Begin the unravel

Begin the unravel
Memories to forget
What was once a full sail
Is now a fisher's net

To have lost the markers
Birthdays, names, a date
Anniversaries missed
Without a celebrate

An unsolved mystery

An unsolved mystery
So much is left unknown
Quick air is escaping
Earth, crowded and alone

Need something to measure
A finite or a math
Formula or theorem
Or a last final draft

My soul is not indexed

My soul is not indexed
In the back of a book
No table of content
Is worth taking a look

And these minimal words
Are not definition
The essence of being
Or the first edition