Talk Soon

Bound to meet again, each one.
Surely, you’ll understand.
We’ve been forestalled, but

There shall be delight; not
That we would try. You’ll see  
Now, this is the nature . . .

Time . . . such that it’s presented
To us, with reserve—
Dreams in tips of

Little fingers outranged  
Our capacity for growth
To such extent we were

Upset . . . daunted . . .
Surely you understand, now, the
Nature of our ways

When we meet again shall
Be a glorious day.

Clock image via Mary Crandall @Flickr
(CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Poems & Poetic Prose

Unseen Exterior

Senses stumble upon awareness of a
looming nearby, although invisible
perceptions rise intensely: suddenly
we realize winds . . . crashes against siding

Revealed by a door watchfully ajar  
our shock: distinct drops obscure objects
flying past . . . pushing across unseen prairie
full dark of night save porch illumination

Rain and heavy debris carried on concealed
horizontal pathways streaming quickly
each helpless to escape or abate, to
avoid penetration under pressure

Puncturing, transferring materials
matter, substance to new coordinates.