Gently, Down the Stream
I found you in this circle of myself
which is singing Row-row-row your boat
in a round, because the parts of me
that seem to end, forever begin in you
and life is bud-ah dream in your gyspy soul
* * *
Mirror on the Morning Sea
Soft drifting, the small craft rocks
in a Hemingway dream so imagined
placid you, mirror on the morning sea
delicate ripples rattling oarlocks
this quiet, willing boat slips alee
The incredible purple-orange burns
an entry into the feathered mist now
peeled enamel, wood weathered gray
the touch of the heart as it yearns
currents wash, knowing what to say
which is singing Row-row-row your boat
in a round, because the parts of me
that seem to end, forever begin in you
and life is bud-ah dream in your gyspy soul
* * *
Mirror on the Morning Sea
Soft drifting, the small craft rocks
in a Hemingway dream so imagined
placid you, mirror on the morning sea
delicate ripples rattling oarlocks
this quiet, willing boat slips alee
The incredible purple-orange burns
an entry into the feathered mist now
peeled enamel, wood weathered gray
the touch of the heart as it yearns
currents wash, knowing what to say
