In the dimly lit pub
she dances barefoot
the bells on her ankles
ringing
She says she comes
from the far-flung East
in that smooth, rolling tongue
of the southern hills
Yet the men pretend
not to know
And the barkeep’s daughter —
She smiles dreamily
as she washes
their empty steins
You ask me to tell you of the roses in my garden
Instead of colors or the sunlight
I ask you to close your eyes so I can whisper
Of the heady scent that lines my driveway
The crunch of gravel the only sound
As petals brush across bare shoulders
You ask me to tell you of the roses in my garden;
They’ve overgrown like a runaway dream.
From his throne of molten gold
The twilight dragon rouses
To breathe white vapor.
Upon the countenance of conquerors
He gifts great ambition and grand dreams.
The rusted red wagon
Anchored by granddad on the porch
Once roamed the seas
With little boys battling Midway
And in royal gold filigree
Pulled Ms. Queen the border collie
On bumpy London cobblestones
It cradled the sod for mom’s petunias
And spilled with cloying sweetness —
A childhood Garden of Babylon.
On a distant planet
She imagines trees that reach the moon
And fronds of light swaying in pelagic waves
Honeycombed foxholes
Where whiskered creatures
Speak in clicks and whistles
Yet sing
With the haunting bellow of orcas
If I tied a string to my wrist
Weighed down by a silver charm
And cast off the other end into the ocean
Would I be robbed by a dolphin’s nosy poke
Or tango with the eight arms of a great octopus?
Would I be nibbled at by the lionfish
Or find myself wedged between the pink polyps of coral?
I throw my lure and three vibration afterwards, pull.
Out of the ocean rises a clam’s shell, knotted in a pretty bow:
The mermaids have good taste.
My favorite thirst is the thirst for words
A turn of phrase as succulent as a peach
An image, silk threads glistening in a tapestry
A story on feathered wings and flight for the mind
To be hungry and to be fed;
There is no greater joy
In-between the words
A space suspended in time
Though pages yellow
On tin stars the spotlight shines
To blind the eyes
And give free reign to imagination
That smile might hold a thousand words
That dream made of cardboard
Takes on shadow and depth
And for a moment, breathes dragon’s fire
RED GLADIOLA 