Hoping
Cheap social relating.
The attack of the screen.
The sour taste of the unfullfiling.
You seek it again and again
A deceitful antidote to the only certainty….
When the shape of death is
a breath, a touch, a kiss and an embrace
an inward turn will not be a waste.
A turn to forgotten islands
and lonely coasts
that embrace the unexpected.
There where the light of the screen cannot intrude
and lust cannot be fooled.
On the screen it writes:
"You are part of death. An inward turn might be the remaining hope"
4/4/2020
Yearning for Freedom
During routine’s intervals
my mind wanders
at mountain sides
and rivers’ banks.
It finds the shades of plane trees
and springs of clear fresh water.
It bends over and drinks
without satiation.
Nature has no satiation.
At the cracks of the present
my mind wanders
through rutty streets and rugged paths
worth passing for the travelers of the unknown,
hostages to the beauty that lies behind the next corner.
Nature hides and waits.
At the pause of duty
my mind devises journeys, crossings,
transient destinations.
Nature is full of waypoints.
Ephemeral offers
to the yearning for freedom.
11/4/2020
Expectations
17 years old.
He picks up the rock and approaches.
I back up against the wall.
Getting closer he takes off the mask.
A face of anger and despair. Beautiful!!
I take off the mask.
A face of fear and defeat. Ugly!!
He stops. Hesitates.
He drops the rock.
Deep breath.
He tears up.
I tear up:
"Thank you! I am 60.
Don’t you forgive me. Forget me.
Run to save yourself and the others"
For a moment it seemed possible.
6/1/2021
