why should I care that you do not claim me
I threw away that tie long ago
never understood it from the beginning
this accidental kinship you pull like a chain
I never sought favor but sometimes found love
kindness wins me over at once
for you I’ve nothing but saddened compassion
a stranger so damaged you don’t wish any repair
a mirror into which I stare
are those my eyes that look so coldly back
too late to scatter sorrow
leaf fall is over and trees are bare
smoke drifts over the ridge
grief no more important than the clouds
rain hits the roof in the darkness
there the faint scent of tears
the moon a mirror in the night
the sun a heart become open
I know the lay of bones in this town
stories of what used to be where
what happened and when
many are just that, tales that are told
but they are flesh and the beating heart
what makes a place alive
one day no one will remember
these particular fables about half-buried things
no matter that and no loss
memories and ashes always dust the streets
in the sky hangs a moon
gauzed by fog and framed by late November trees
art positioned between two houses
just so for maximum effect
nothing but some random street piece
tacked up there without permission
probably unsigned
the feral cat who lives on the block
appreciates it from a fallen tree
the ground underneath rumbles from the weight
of displaced trucks and discarded dreams
I throw a handful of stars over my shoulder
and laugh as I walk away
the air chill and overcast
the ground bleak as the louring sky
then amidst the stippled rain
there catches the slanting light
the sun’s brief gold
shimmering in the drear and gloom
stands one tree high above
that tree shines
right now I am free to walk down the street
to be threatened by white men in white vehicles
free to go to the market and shops
to be harassed by white men in red hats
they think to intimidate, bully, and scare
by looming larger than they actually are
I have no fear of them or their kind
nothing they can do will make me afraid
I am freer than they can ever know
in ways that they can never understand
will not hesitate to look at them and ask
would you like to talk
tight as a knot, hard as a fist
pay close attention to this
some attachment, a driving need
some aversion, an illusory deed
a swirling colorful tale, a looping noisy cinch
the trick to catch and relax the pinch
when last we talked, I must have my say
now being more attentive to listen in a deeper way
lest I find I cannot breathe, choked by overween
as the winds deafen with roaring howls
the water buckets in drenching pour
the waves tower in threatening heights
and I stand bewildered, shivering, and afraid
a quiet voice speaks amidst the terror
remember, foolish one, what you learned so long ago
you have felt the stillness in the eye of a hurricane
remember, foolish one, what you have learned since
you yourself create the worst of storms
breathe so that your mind calms
then examine the stories you turn into a gale
how should I approach this time
whether I sit or walk, I am beseiged
a hundred worrisome concerns cloud my mind
a thousand interwoven sorrows weigh my heart
anywhere I look is filled with shadows
comes an answer:
remember the wheel of sharp weapons turns and turns
you are impaling yourself upon its keen blades
bring to mind again the cause of all suffering
face your self-cherishing as the enemy to blame
grind dirty selfishness into the path of compassion
transform polluted craving into offering great generosity
eat your own poisons so that others might live
if I hold those paintings in my hands
the hurricane will finally hit
the house in which I spent my youth
torn to ruins in the howling storm
everything that I remembered gone
my mother herself now dead
I learned in childhood early on
how to survive such wind and rain
stand in the eye matching its eerie calm
I have no qualms about doing so again
