rings (grounded)

rings (grounded)

when she discovered

she could no longer fly

she turned her back to him

each night & silently cried

nocturnal tears of supplication

about her sudden grounding

fearful surrendering her name

had clipped her secret wings

wondering if that golden band

had anchored her to the earth

& how could a man who would never fly

& never lose his name begin to understand

her morning steps fell heavy
her eyes swollen—ringed dark

this wife grounded like an angel

snared in the alluring net of "i do"

these prepositions of love

these prepositions of love

and this i was asked

are you in love?

there at in i tripped

over that preposition

am i in love

like standing in a hurricane

tempest in a teacup

am i under love

like a man under water

a prisoner underfed

am i over love

like a man overboard

toes over a ledge

am i into love

like falling into her

she into me

am i against love

like a back against a wall

holding her against all odds

am i below love

like the true below the surface

hitting below the belt

am i above love

like the moon & stars above

my heart above the law

am i about love

like a bud about to bloom

a man about to cry

these prepositions of love

i do not know & cannot claim

because my bones & flesh

have committed to the verb of this

to make love

not like a mason or seamstress

not like a king or baker

not like a poet or singer

just me near you

to gather together

i am with love

the everyday motion of artifacts

the everyday motion of artifacts

someone walks into the closet

behind me

there in the dark quiet corner

unrecognizable

we are aware of each other

shoes and clothes

and it may be only in closets

where we can be together and alone

•

lightening horizontal and silent

the night after a supermoon

watching a lover dress after showering

just her disappearing piece by piece

folding a daughter’s clothes delicate

and warm from the tumbling dryer

her handwriting across an envelope

and inside the card those initials

•

recollection memory dream drawn from

the everyday motion of artifacts

i am wrapped inside every moment of this

and drawn to antiseptic sunshine against skin

but there is a perfection to inadequacy and failing

that promises nothing and worships everything

like a book out of place on a bookshelf arranged

as if finding were something meant to be a system

as if burden were a magician’s slight of hand

hers slipped into mine in a dark closet among clothes

the gathering (May Day)

the gathering (May Day)

hey

hello

hi

let’s gather outside

& pray for rain

we’ll kiss the tears

off each other’s cheeks

until the clouds gather

& open for us

maybe we’ll draw a crowd

to stare into the sky

our songs from salty lips

will be our hymns

against the doubts & fears

fading at our feet

& maybe

just maybe

there’ll be no more good-bye’s