Notes To An Unknown

        as I resist

               so am I drawn

    toward what beckons

              from a place

  shrouded in dim memory

          lost and forgotten

  where someone speaks words

                unknown to me

     of what cannot be said

          when will lost its way

What Is There To Say

what
is
there
to
say
after
a
picture
has
taken
the
words
away

Never

never
hardly ever
should you
try to
be clever

For Sarah

when you
reach for
my hand
I'll be
but a
breath away

Impression

a voluptuous impression
lies embedded in
dewy grass

I wonder
whose fingers
last strummed the
strings of the guitar

Allegory

no matter
how long
it seems
it's only
hard for
a little while

Shaping

shaping disparate moments
into a mosaic
becoming a rendering
resembling the image
of its creator
absent of movement and
essence shattered into
fragments scattered symbols
of a design
awaiting congruity
in the hands
of a master