Tuesday, December 26, 2017

quantum state being

Gender engenders estrangement from our selves
Bifurcating humanity as if we are not one species
Sexuality dividing adults from children
Male and female separated like odd and even numbers.

Living in the context of contemporary social relations
Infused with the ruling patriarchal superiority
Sometimes an odd thought overtakes my brain
Thinking for a moment that I inhabit an alternate body.

I have masculine and feminine in me
I have both child and adult in me
I am young and old, potential and realized
I embody every possible aspect of uncertainty.

You may see me as a singular old man
Dancing with visions of sugar plums and fairies
Gnomes and elves and jingling bells
Cutting geometric patterns into the ice.

You may not find me as pure as driven snow
Covering the world pristine as a tabula rasa
Leaving a quiet hush as the storm tapers off
Waiting to glitter crystalline under the cold blue sky.

In the dark days between the solstice and the new year
I am alive and dead like a bare naked tree
I am arriving and departing as we all are
I am awake in a dream of time passing.

Friday, December 22, 2017

winter solstice 2017

We watched three eagles fly to the crest
Soaring over the hilltop where we live
Early afternoon on the winter solstice
Circling up above until they became distant specks

Their unexpected presence surprised us
So unusual the sight of three adults together
So lovely to admire those iconic white heads and tails
Flashing as they turned in the slanted sunlight

This vision in the sky might be taken as an augury
In times past when avian encounters signified
Some portent of the future possible to know
While our thoughts turn towards a simpler explanation

With the ponds sealed by ice as the arctic air invades
The fishers gather round what open water remains
Hereabouts having seen a dozen eagles in one tree
Perched in January by the reservoir edge

These are winter visitors arriving from the north
A serendipity for us to catch a chance to see them
Before we flee from this frozen landscape
To our subtropical sojourn awaiting warmer days

We heard the horned owl softly hooting last night
Audible to us in the quiet time after lights out
Penetrating the walls and closed windows
Calling to its mate somewhere near our house

Another sign of things to come we hope
If they should nest nearby this winter
Brooding their eggs in February for our return
Presenting us with fledgling owlets in April

For it seems these owls are indifferent to the season
Nesting in Florida at the same time as in New Jersey
Though what they use for their nest varies locally
We will watch there and anticipate what might be here

Saturday, December 16, 2017

Thursday, December 14, 2017

Tuesday, December 12, 2017

December's child


A proverbial picture of innocence
Arms outstretched expressing pure delight
Looking up into the myriad snowflakes falling
Letting the cold wet points land on his face

I am inside keeping warm looking out at him
Playing in the side yard across the street
He does not see me watching him
Remembering other first snowfalls of the year.

Quiet descended upon this Saturday
A time to read and reflect and enjoy the beauty
Falling crystals in the still air floating down
Heralding the unofficial start of winter.

As we wait for the precipitation to pass
Housebound on the Sabbath as if observant
As if the weather is an act of God
We welcome this opportunity for a respite day.

The boy knows nothing of the cares of the world
Bundled up in the happiness of early childhood
His moment of joy there for us to behold and embrace
A gift to us given effortlessly unaware of our eyes.

Saturday, December 9, 2017

Thursday, December 7, 2017

December NYC 2017


The early morning bright sun slants across the platform
Illuminating the silent commuters waiting for the train
Such a throwback scene to set my thoughts wandering
Thinking of all the people who have stood here before.

The train ride is pleasantly smooth unlike the lurching bus
And so affordable these days since I get senior half fare
But in the quiet car the passengers announce their presence
Filling the air with constant coughs and sniffles.

Looking out the window at low tide in the meadowlands
Tracking past yellow marsh grass and black brown mud exposed
Natural curves of drainage streams bridged by steel angles
Crossing the wetlands where as yet open space remains.

Soon after we enter the dark nineteenth century tunnel
When the train clangs its warning bell waking the dream riders
Announcing our destination soon to be at the end of the line
Emerging to run on parallel tracks with our contemporary arrivals.

Everyone stands when the train finally stops, waiting our turn
To step into the flood of foot traffic leaving the station
Where I split off to take a moment to admire the waiting room
And take a quick look at the changes to the Hoboken waterfront.

Gone is the giant Maxwell House neon sign by the factory
Seen like a beacon across the river in my Manhattan years
Replaced by upscale high rise residences and trendy night life
Drawing the weekend youth who turn this trip into a party train ride.

Not knowing what this new day will bring
Traveling from there to here transports me suspended
From then to now I return again to a different city
Belonging to the people who frequent the place today.

Standing still in the full PATH train under the river
Waiting to proceed in the morning rush congestion
Looking into the mostly young faces around me
Looking away if they look back.

Funneled in a mass to the Fourteenth Street station exit stairs
Percolating up slowly we merge and emerge
Greeted with the sounds and smells and sights of New York
Including a patina of red and orange leaves strewn underfoot.

In the middle of the sidewalk a large full suitcase
Left unattended in the cold raises a question
And a man stops by it and looks around wondering
What is the back story how this came to be here.

The cop directing traffic at Fifth Avenue is unaware
The security guard at the corner of University knows not
The traffic patrol car coming up University likewise
And there is no need to do anything.

Sunday, December 3, 2017

Friday, December 1, 2017