Stupor

Sometimes I need proof that he once was 

-- can't trust my mind, it's made up things before. 

sometimes I close my eyes just to to see him, 

just to peak at him again

dozing in the chair 

on the inside of my lids, just to see 

him folding clothes,

just to see him stirring 

meatball soup--he looks good in his bones--

just to see him, sometimes, just to see him 

flossing while we watch the evening news, 

just to see him like that again.

And then the whole world stops, 

the whole world shatters into bits of glass 

right there behind my eyes, 

the whole world bursts 

and I am melting at the knees

inside a hale of this confetti.

. 

Ghosts

I have never seen a ghost

nor known anyone who's seen a ghost. 

I wish to see a ghost to prove there’s more 

to life than what we measure. 

What I have seen is the dead. 

I have seen a taut face dusted with flour 

and dense as stone.

But if I could see a ghost, I would overcome my dread

and speak, not knowing what to expect from a ghost. 

I would ask about God of course and karma, 

about all this suffering.

I would ask about feelings,

I would ask, are there feelings Man hasn't felt?  

But first, first I would ask about him. 

Atlas

Where in the world might I go now 

that I can go anywhere ? 

Drop a coin on the atlas and tell me 

where it lands: there I could go.

I can go anywhere now. 

But my own nature is here  

where the sky shivers in fog 

and the sun glows silver 

and the effect is mystic.

I could go anywhere now 

but I will stay by the bay, by this ocean, 

by these mountains--by all this

unfair share of beauty.

I could go anywhere but 

here lights blink from cities,

leap from the ocean foam, 

from the kindred faces. 

I could go anywhere but some nights 

I can't sleep missing him, 

missing all the lost days that drip 

from memory, so many they could 

form a deep lake.

So I will stay here with these drops.

Even though the days are flying fast as birds 

escaping from their cage, even though 

slowing them is beyond prayer,  

I stay anchored in their mist. 

I could go anywhere but here I wouldn't 

move a cloud 

or change a scent--the marsh salt's alright with me-- 

as is every color, every pattern, every rumble 

on the street, 

every scene a little treat.