‘Off The Porch’

Bounding off

The porch,

Sprung from the granite step–

All colors gray

In the limonene mist

We go.

Up, down and out

Into the cricket’s

Mourning sound,

Through Summer’s night

Dog and me

Breeching the glow tide

And mind sea.

Running, running,

Racing here, racing there—-

Through deep wet grass,

Past the sight

Of white moon glories,

And the wild

Perfumed stories

Of our thought.

Sweet

In the mystic lair

Lifts and fills

Our lungs with air,

And nowhere bound

Is obstacle

To magic in the sound

Or wonder all around.

Then stars explode

And in—-

Implode

The vision dims.

It’s all undone

The old man’s fun,

And where he’s been.

In bed-quilt tangled,

His stop becomes,

Not quite aware

His freedom gone,

Mangled in the weave

of a late night dream..

And dog jumps barking.

Alarmed!

Where’s the harm?

In the low moaning

And sudden falling

Of his old friend’s arm.

Now so still—-

Quiet in the night

His  flight

Floats free

And reverie—

Gone on.

It seemed so real,

To Dog and Me.

* * * * * * *

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