Minisode 4 – Levertov and Costello: Shut up, Solomon, I’ll Kill You

Encroachment
Draw upon the canvas for
it is blank and I am bare

not unlike the hollow din of a forced exchange between the two.

Mold my clay before I am hardened
and forgotten, stashed in the nook

with all the intent of use but
remaining ready, blank and bare.

A Time Past
I was in the kitchen with my back
turned towards you, and the sun
was shining through on the afternoon
you receded into stupor only after a comment,
(that guileless note –

turn dew to frost)

like an afterthought scrawled
at the end of a page of notes.

Someone else has homed that house, with
frames of familiar faces,
gleaming just to prove it.
I am still cemented in
that old, modest kitchen:
the sun shining on
my neck protecting me
from your armed words.

To the Swallow
I saw you in the distance, oh Young Swallow,
So small and asking for support I wanted

to race and soar up to you, mimicking

your slalom and dive with

oversized wings, watercolored in rain

and heavy on the wind

but graceful still.

You Solitary Swallow, dancing on air, I will try to

hold you, to caress thee!

A companion in passing, the joy to embrace you should
lead me to no harm,

but then you called them –

your brothers,

The cavalry, the lancers, to ensure your safety
from this two-legg’d flying dame and her
frivolous antics; I see the swirling of you all:
a tornado of gale, no, of color.

(1)
There is something about
Crisp pages
Freshly inked or
Soft and well-read
That stirs the senses.

(2)
Heartbreak is finding
The love you shared
Was only enough until
Something else
Took precedence.