Unravelling and weaving, sometimes simultaneously

Archive for December, 2014


The wineskin is empty
and the rising sun
feels like needles
in my scrabbling brain

I reach for you
but it’s too late for that

you’re gone

as if you were never there

and maybe
my mind reasons
you weren’t

It’s been a long time
since I saw you
when I was sober

All I can see
scattered in listless piles
are the soused bodies
of the bacchanites

undoubtedly dreaming
of chaos
accomplished and hoped for

panting in their stupor
lips and hands
stained red

I am alone

as I always am

as I want to be

damn it

stumbling to piss behind a tree
bracing with both hands
my half closed eyes
follow the trail
between the gnarled roots

so old

My fingers dig into the bark
and the twisted vine
settled in my hair
falls over my brow

I snatch it off
tossing it away

the limp leaves make a sad arc
before settling in the trampled dirt

Who cares

I will make more wine
before the sun recedes

and those thralls that manage to wake
will swallow it down
until merriment once again
slips into madness

and I see you again.


(c) RCGA 2014



I remember the day

it was summer

and we were laughing

sorting clothes

twisting and bending
in the confinement
of the laundry room

You had that glint
in your eyes
that made them
a bolder blue

and your hands
were more full of me
than the wash

You picked at
the slender straps
on my shoulders

and asked nonchalantly
how much I really
liked the dress

I could tell
your intention
in the inquiry

but found I really
wasn’t all that attached
to that particular dress

after all


Fast forward today

beneath your tee shirts
folded neatly in the closet
I saw a flowered print

and tugging it
from under the pile
it fell open in my hands

just as I was in yours

ripped straight up the center

just as I am now

(c) RCGA 2014


How young we were
that both our years
would not equal
the single total
of one of our lives now

We were leggy
as yearlings
smelling fresh mown hay
full of ourselves

Two fillies
nipping and galloping
in springtime meadows
exquisitely poised
on the edge
of awakening

Your eyes
so full and luminous
glowing with mischief
twinkling with dares
deep and brown
with secret desires

At night
I sat between your thighs
listening to you hum
your fingers busy
making plaits in my hair

sometimes trembling
in their hurry
as if it was foreplay

the gentle pull and tug
on my scalp
an indicator of your state
your eagerness

Do you remember?

We hardly slept
as if we had discovered
the secrets of the universe
in the broken hollow
of a mattress
that didn’t allow separation
but rolled us together
time and again
to the middle

pressed together
hearts pounding
like hooves across a verdant field


(c) RCGA 2014

Silent Night

The last carol faded

I slipped
into the bell tower
moving alone
against the tide
in my choir robe
to the cold dark
with my still-lit candle
to visit you

The candle flame
in the draft
as my body moved
to the kneeler
sinking into posture
the red velvet
my half collapse
when the flicker
of light in my hand
reflected on your name

chilled brass
on my fingertips
while I wished you
Merry Christmas

I watched the glow
of the candle
against the twisted vines
of the columbarium
just a moment

until I saw my breath
before me
a cloud of ether
coming up
from my heart

blew out the flame
rose from my knees
and retreated
to the narthex
still filled with the crowd
rejoicing their way
into the night

(c) RCGA 2014


I had a dream last night
while I was huddled
beneath my blankets
my back to the empty side
of the bed
that you lifted the covers
and slipped in beside me
knees behind knees
hand on my belly

your warm breath
against my ear
carried the words
I love you
down into
the empty cavern
of my heart
a familiar and coveted echo
I still hear
in resounding rounds
this foggy gloaming

though your body
is gone
and that side of the bed
is cold
in the morning light

(c) RCGA 2014


On the longest night
O light

do not let me forget
that the sun is reborn

remind me
of the deep

of your return

no matter how frigid
the twilight

no matter how dark
the midnight

no matter how hard
the hours pass

dawn will come
it must come

and with it
the hope of days stretching
lengthening into the warmth
of spring again

like a cold seed
set next to a candle
shedding its mantle
and reaching
towards you
O light

Candle in hand

(c) RCGA 2014

The Redwood

It has been nearly twenty years
since you and I entwined
inside the hollow of a redwood
late in autumn’s chill

Whose limbs were whose
the monk
the mystic
and the ancient tree
all tantric twined
with frosted breath

while we swayed gently
in the unmoving cave
of a barked womb
that welcomed us
sheltering our passion
welcoming the energy
of temporal bliss

the press of wood
and thighs on thighs


lost in a moment
lost in each other
lost in the whispers
of wind in the needles
shushing chants
in so many languages

it felt like Babel

creeping from the roots
up our spines
out our crowns
up the trunk
shooting flecks of sparkling residue
high into
the California sky

decades and miles distant
I breathe
and scent
the Druid incense of our love
brief sparked
burnt quickly
banked to ashes

yet cherished
in my memory
part of that old tree’s history
perhaps even entertained
by your winter thoughts
far away

redwood hollow

(c) RCGA 2014


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