My Submissions for Possible Submission

“To a Willow Tree in Mt. Pleasant Cemetery”

Wisdom found in each drooping branch,
nestled in the beard of an old man
who stands stooped but firm at the edge of the world...

(cascading)

...surrounded by the speeding monuments of the living -
above, below, around and through -
that infringe upon the slabbed stones of the dead;

past the Eaton mausoleum
where men bring their excesses,
and lions keep their secrets,
to the grave.

(cas-
cad-
ing)

What memories and tears
of long ago romances and funereal rites
have you etched into your bark
and drunk into your roots?

This is our waterfall of cascading leaves
that do not drown us but embrace us
as in the arms and sighs
of a hundred friends and lovers.

Oh, wily willow tree,
rain your wiry willowed branches
    down on me.


“Rust and Fire”

In the limitless yet discerning view of my heart’s eyes
  I see your life, breathing heavily,
  as though strained and tested,
  and for one moment
  you are ablaze
  in rust and fire.

But I will not go to you as a saviour
  or label you as a fallen angel
  or think you virginal in your sleep,
  perfectly innocent,
  as even in your dreams
  you are less than innocent.

For you are a woman
  (worthy of praise enough)
  and above all
a human being.


“Sitting Across from Me on the Subway”

His hands are large
and calloused,
probably from playing guitar and building things,
both an art of the people.

He could use his hands to lift you up
and place you gently upon the
               bed,
leaving sparks across your waist
from where he held you,
gooseflesh trailing up your back and
    shoulders (
more romantic than
cutis ansirina)

                  My hands are small and
                              weak.