Tour

There is a corner
At the top of the hill
It heads on out
Towards the jet-stream

There is an escape lane, with
Police enforcement cameras
Here am I
Beneath a mist, that clings

To the sides of the valley
Where the river flows
Cold and clear and cold
And clear and rippling

Through glacial formations;
Ice-slides that fashioned
Plateaus, terraces, ravines,
And first rate accommodation

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The Slopes

Why go back
On this day of sun
Give your thoughts
Freedom to run

A walk in the park
Over shade of leaf
In that instant, all of
Life, listened beneath

The ringing stops
Silence enters the fray
Tis a wondrous thing
This peaceful day

I don’t know how
In the passage of time
These magical moments
Have occasion to chime

But so they do
And for that I smile
To think of my mother
And her grateful child

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Nero

I take the window seat
Why wouldn't I
It is the street
Distant, cold, and thin

To touch the soul
It is why I write
People watching;
Passing smiles, engaging grins

Years ago, years passed by
The class of two thousand and five
It was a way back to life
Drinking beer, and slipping gin

Van Morrison is on the radio
I remember the lyrics that I wrote
It was my own sat alone Scandinavia
Before the daily threat of insulin

Time to say, funny old life
Recognition of visited places
It is the treat
Instant, warm, let’s begin

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Estrange

When there is no one
There you are
When there is nothing
Not even a thought
You silently enter

With the blueberries
From by the water
With the compliment
About my mother

He talked of indifference
As being between
Attachment and detachment
Which caught me out
Set me questioning

With the one
From the other
With the same
And the familiar

Between your attraction
And my distraction I see
The impermanence
Freed of all reason
Even disassociation

With the light
From the ether
With the search
For one another

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Grounds

I park in the same place
I have parked here since
Two thousand and seven

I can see the college dome
Where we went for coffee
Sometime around eleven

Behind me the wine bar
They opened their doors
On the day I was leaving

Beside hopes and dreams
We cleared out a space
To endow the grieving

I might tell of winter
Mornings, of catching
New light at the dawn

Specify all the reasons
That make these lives
We live our very own

Ahead of me now stand
The railings, prescribed
In, and as, circular motion
Names of not so famous
War heroes, who gave and lost
Their life, without a notion

Of the purpose of dying so
Cheaply, whereas I remember
To try and love you so deeply

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