past past present (20161222)

these ghosts hover
like the shimmer
of christmas booze
over a dickensian pudding

[so many dead
–the poet said]

no one waited until spring
no thaw
and frost flowers
blossomed from gravesite earth

poinsettia and holly berry
heart color bright for the season
pleasing to view
poison to taste
divided by a pair of aces and nines
yet in my dreams
always together
striving

Poem 20160318

our hearts
beat out
the same
rhythm

but mistimed

as if i were from
the past
and you are here
in the present
and we see each other
as ghosts see the living
through a veil or a mist

or as if we boarded
the same train
felt the rattle of the rails
at the same crossings
sat in adjacent seats
my hand on the armrest
where you place your hand
me looking out the window
where you lean your head
fogging it with your breath
the same journey
but on different schedules
different timetables