FLIGHT & MONUMENTS

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de MadMenWearingFedora

de MadMenWearingFedora

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FLIGHT

A flying nun
rests awhile.
When the afternoon
blinks,
the day's rhapsody
lightens its timbre.

She comes down
from her cosmic nest then
to the humbler art
of stepping on that tall,
old lamp
and says,
"I am not a guest.
I am here
to stay
in this upper storey"

We look at her
and forget
our immediate
preoccupations.

Time haunts us,
with the sky
a keeper of our thoughts.

This bird
is a surveyor.
She keeps her dates
with us.
She will rest awhile
or for as long
as we live
to hear her song
before
moon dappled evenings.

Even on foggy days
and especially
shimmering nights,
we recall her pitch and sweet timbre.

She rests
awhile.
For it is always
chaos, otherwise,
always her time to get
away
from it all.

***

MONUMENTS

Beckon the shape of life
and
it offers us
monuments to remember.

Through the mists of time,
a clearing has emerged on concrete.
A crowd dispersed
when the very dust
cleared the way.

***

It is just the two of us
standing there
before the monument of life,
with the purple and
maroon hues
and the sky,
The speckle and splash
of evening lights,
like halos
spread across town.

From the mists of time,
a bird has now emerged.
The lark
sings here!!!

****