Public Domain
Let our love
Stand the test of time
Like wax record tunes
Ear wormed for a century
Let all love
John Phillip Sousa march
Down American dream streets
That grandpas and toddlers roam
Without royalties or payola
Free to all
Who lifts their voice
Who strums the chords
Kicks the beat
Let all love
Hang in the air
Float to the cosmos
For all willing
To make it their own
Before Spring
The chapped, split-lipped dry days
The wind raw, sky bright
Sensuality of change
Constant, evolving
Without meaning or plan
Unzip the coat
Unbutton the flannel shirt
Strip down protection
Gloves off, wool hat itch relief
Frost yields to mud
Spongey steps, dirty strides
Pause like rubbing the cat’s neck
Feel the hum
Weak sun
Breath vapor plumes
Eyes wide in anticipation
The wait is over
Walk long enough
Heat will come
Under shirt, sweat blooms
Monuments of Aging
I am not made of mortar or brick
I no longer stand so tall
My time more a smoldered wick
I still resist the coming fall
All I’ve made, said and done
Does not seem so grand at all
The world I knew come and gone
Deeds and plans are palled
Still my ember heart does beat
I feel its steady call
To love, laugh and not retreat
From the coming fall