Litha

Litha


   Lifted from responsibility
Soft slow fade into the Sun
and shade
Wither to go, flowing like water,
like wind a'sail
remembering bees and swift
furry beings that pepper the
wild of perfume and petals,
willowy beach along light
scattered pond endeared in
sweet smoke, sweet dreams
spiraling.
Penny + Peter + Gary + Liz
named faces smiling, raging,
emerging to wander, wend through
-- does it matter?
now that they vaguely remain like
tattered threads of volumes long ended.
Today may well depend on those dusty
pages, remnants rendered, dramas
past.
Today, instead of those or
possible tomorrows, laze.  
Indulge in the Sun and shade.

final transit

This is what we do at the
end of the world,
we play.

Eyes closed
seated upon a wide-cushioned surface
I could be anywhere
any when
any one
far and away from this inexorable
slippage

Cracked and creviced, consistencies
fail, fall, suck in with such brutal
gravity.

Taken
more love, beauty,
joy, repose;
less left to quell daily
misery, to recompense
for raging insanity.

Disintegrating

No continuity
Nothing to scan; naught to matter
No more responsibility,
no chores or habits, just defensive distance,
release from conscious-made reality

Flail, fall into capricious fantasy.
At this age what matters is
to feel wrapped in that
cozy blanket of home, family,
simple love
while time continues, lazily
drifts over, sucked into
the end.