Symphonic

She raced to work
Dodging cars on her way.

The pine trees slid by her slowly
While the cars were like pylons to her
On a slalom course to work
Until the last lorry crossed just in front of her, swerving into her lane
She was late to wrk but pulled back instinctively
Not competing with the big Fish of industry today.

At the hospital she only wanted her phone.
The call came late and not from her.
The hospital called the repeat dial on her phone
And told her work, she was gone.

When they retrieve her care from the wreck
It was still playing Mozart
Repeating some symphony over and over.

//
Ginsberg was a clown
He played us like an orchestra
In his sexual symphony.
He had us all going
He was the director
And conductor of the whole room—including those dead
Or not with us. He howled at the crowd:
Ok, train wreck
Ok, just beforehand,
Ok, sex with stranger in bathroom
They, crashing into one another
Upon impact. This was their last memory.

//
Each day is a symphony
With four parts.
The coffee and reflection on last night’s dreams
And love touches with she who is still beside me.
The slowly returning to the waking world and today’s labors.
The people peppered in like chili plants leaning into sun
While we work and grow.
The languid conversations of late afternoon
And all we’ve so far learned today.
Then, evening leaning into nocturne night
Where we practice the surrender of death to day again.
And all along the way, there, Love was
Playing along with us all through
So many movements each day.
//
She climbed on top of me
Riding me like a horse-l
This little daughter who came
From another daughter who also climbed on top of me
To make all this happen. l
Love their climbings
In different ways.
One I love like a cardinal
The other like a hawk.

//
Death itself flies over me daily
Like a hawk’s shadow, I was trying to photograph.
I don’t mind, it keeps me on my toes, while watching
All the traffic pass in the city
Right in front of me. I live by a highway
But death comes low, nearly tagging me on the head
As if I were its mouse to catch, or daily prey. But
I don’t mind, that shadow passes over all our doors daily.
Mine is blood red, just so the angels can see well
When they devour the hawk
In mid air. And I stand up, leave my front porch
And go paint a red tailed hawk
For memory’s sake.

//
I dreamed I adopted a daughter from Gaza
All I could do was hold her and thank her for being so alive
And having such a loud and beautiful name.
All I could feel was every father
Holding every daughter ever.
And she had curly black hair
And the deepest brown eyes I’ve ever seen
Peering out, at what seemed like, the whole world.