The Cedars of Taunton

A thousand
Flat fingered
Tentacles
Reach to
Rain and dew,
Silken mite threads
Glisten in the sun.
Pungent pine
Scents the air,
Drawing the
Midwinter deer.
The neighbor wages
Valiant war,
Armed in vain
With burlap
To face the
Cloven enemy.

Sustenance

Living on memories,
Dig deep
Or scratch the surface
A heady repast
And most times
Enough.

The Teacher

Patience and generosity
Abound
Driven to share
Well earned knowledge,
The ups and downs of life,
All that could be and was.

Carry the ghosts of
Socrates and Plato
Ovid and Joyce
Into the future,
Envious endeavor
Of those so appointed.

Packages

After all these months,
It should get easier
And you believe it is
Memories tied up neat,
Put away like his possessions
Everything where it belongs.

Then suddenly, you cross the bridge
Where he would park his car and wait
Standing there, so sweet, so eager,
So you could see him from below
Driving home, your work over.

How he loved those white stockings
And your hair held back
How he loved to undo all that.
You and the memories come apart,

All those pictures flood your mind
In the matter of a second.
It flows without control
You think it will not end.
Why aren't you more together?
When will you be, never?
Perhaps go to another place,
Without so many triggers.

But then you realize,
The catalyst lies within,
You simply need to
Give it more time.