Bedside

And then quietly

As though you’re

Tip-toeing across the

Floor you entered

My life no

Parade or marching

Bands just you

Lowering yourself on

The bed next

To me and

Me

Feeling your warmth

This is how

You came to

Me this morning

YouAndDebussy (for Christopher)

And while listening

To Debussy’s Nocturne

I couldn’t help

But think of

You

It floated above

Me

Like doves freed

From a cage

And bathed me

In calmness just

Like your voice

NewMorning

And finally the

Sun has broken

Through like search

Lights during the

Blitzkrieg illuminating the

Giant green trees

Marching slowly towards

Me each heavy

Step uprooting ground

Cover scattering birds

And bunnies but

Now they stand

In pastoral surrender

Sky

Now the sky

Resembles my

Grandfathers beard gray

Wispy with patches

Of orange as

Low sun skittles

Across its cheeks

Blue dodges in

And out like

Balloons in Central

Park bumping into

White here now

SaturdayInCharlotte

Clouds above me

Swirl about like

Soapy suds swirling

Down the kitchen

Sink hawks soar

On invisible winds

High above as

Tall trees stand

Guard like thin

Helmeted soldiers or

Green umbrellas in

Fruity drinks the

Air is thick

With the stereo

Of bird calls

And tweets tickling

From afar as

Charlotte wakes up