I Will Never Forget


 Washington DC putting flowers on Mom's gravephoto
Touching the ground, wet grass, and still morning.
You lie beneath my feet, feet that feel  as though
they are sinking into the very void of your presence.
Leaving barren ground to follow without you,
holy ground,  hallow feelings of yesterday.
You do not exist in temporal tomorrows of living everyday.
I kneel, to keep from swaying in the feelings of uncertainty.
I want to lie and sleep near you, to feel you again.
A fragment of time, going and gone, and soon to be gone again,
I mix the moisture of the day with the moisture of my tears.
In the passing of life as I seek to find reason,
I bow my head to pray. I feel the swelling of life and death
fertilize the ground inside my grounding, so that I may never forget.
© CMM 2011

Shakespeare and Days of Youth


Perched below the shaded trees,
cools the sun’s luncheon rays.
Crossed in contemplation knees
are the enchanted Shakespeare days.

Tempered heat of springtime lawn

varid carpet lays beneath.
Lurching words without alarm,
bid from metamorphous sleep.

Anthony and Cleopatra fight,
as sonnets woo the lady’s fare.
Henry the IV comes from the night,
poets and lovers, a wispy pair.

The yeoman genius now buried in tomb,
leaves with the youth a place to learn.
While even when he left the room,
all other works are now discerned.

copyrighted:   2005
CMM