Under Escher’s Sky

Cloud columns,
cumulus rows
to horizon.

                          Birds float
                                   with winds
                          under clouds.

            Creek water     
                                    mirrors fish,    
                                                           swimming lines.
Infinite observation.

            clouds repeat,

refuse to

            become birds/

floating fish.


                                    Cloud becomes

                     fish, fish

                                                            becomes bird
           
                     by exchange

                                                            as normal,
           
                                     all organic.
------

The Collected Chaff, v. 1.0    

The Last Time

"The last time ever I saw your face,          
I thought the world would come to an end.
        And the days and nights that have come since then
        are unfair without you here, my love."

"I felt your heart so close to mine.    
And I know our joy would fill the earth,
And last till the end of time, my love."        
                                   -Ewan MacColl

Today I sought out our song and its memories. 
Ten years ago, I sang with Johnny Cash as a
living room duet, my arms wrapped 'round you. 
    Now I add: 
        The last time ever I saw your face,  
        I thought the world would come to an end.
        And the days and nights that have come since then
        are unfair without you here, my love.

MacColl did not sing of death's part in love. 
Perhaps it is too morbid for a love song?
You are too important to ignore any part of
    your story:
        The last time ever I spoke to you,
         I thought you told me, "It will be okay,"
         with only your eyes, since you could not speak.
         How cruel can life be, my love?
-----
complete lyrics for
"The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face"
by Ewan MacColl

The first time ever I saw your face,
I thought the sun rose in your eyes.
And the moon and stars were the gifts you gave,
To the dark and the endless sky, my love.

And the first time ever I kissed your mouth,
I felt the earth move through my hands.
Like the trembling heart of a captive bird
That was there at my command.

And the first time ever I lay with you,
I felt your heart so close to mine.
And I know our joy would fill the earth,
And last till the end of time, my love.

The first time ever I saw your face.
-----

The version that Colleen and I sang with was Johnny Cash's.
------

The Collected Chaff, v. 1.0     

Colleen

            Colleen was the most unanticipated person
in my life.

Having given up on love years before,
    I had no hope of finding someone
        I didn't want to live without. 

            When she trained me for a summer job,
I had no idea that by the end of the season
            we would love each other. 

I often just wanted to watch her because
            she was so graceful and deliberate. 
I came to love her when I realized that
            most of her life was approached
            with that same style, dedication, and insight.

We promised each other at least 40 years;
I was luck to know her for eight years
            including four years, six months, and 19 days of marriage.

I felt like a failure when
I couldn't save her from the things
she feared;
            she was scared of bugs,
            loud noises,
            fire,
            and old men. 
Our TV wasn't turned off for years;
            she was so scared of the dark. 

            It is easy to love a person for her virtues;
I can honestly say I loved Colleen for her faults as well. 
            She would get so anxious
I just wanted to comfort and hold her
            but that only made her more upset.

Colleen never gave up on people. 
            She was friendly in the most stubborn way possible. 
            She greeted every person, every day. 
            If someone snubbed her, she made a point
            of being friendly to them until they cracked;
            sometimes this was just a warm smile, but she had changed someone.
People I wouldn't have given a second thought to,
            she saw the value in being kind to.
It wasn't a game or a matter of pride;
            she knew that everyone was worthy   
            of a kind word and a smile;
those who can't reciprocate need it even more.


I learned to appreciate travel because
            Colleen loved to travel. 
            She loved to drive, to have that control. 
            She loved to speed with Mellencamp or The Stones at full volume. 
We would both sing (scream) along. 
            The beat of the music encouraging her to go faster. 
I always felt safe with her at the wheel. 

After an insignificant tiff,
             she almost left
me at a gas station in South Dakota. 
            Because she believed I would have been better off without her;
I am glad she always waited for me. 

            Colleen didn't mind hurting, suffering, and sacrificing. 
            At times holding her hands hurt her. 
So many nights I feel asleep holding her hand.
            My love was honest unless it would hurt someone else; 
I never knew how much she hurt or for how long.

On a Saturday afternoon in May, the
doctors explained the situation: 
            An infection (and Colleen was always afraid of dying from an infection)
            they could not adequately treat had developed. 

Aren't I too young to make this decision? 
Aren't I too young to have to make it? 
Isn't the doctor
too young to know for sure? 
            "Will treatment cause her more pain?"

"Yes, it will cause her more pain;
though it might prolong her life slightly. 
She is too weak to respond well.
Colleen likely has brain damage." 

Yes, you will have to push a button every 15 minutes
            to help ease her pain,
you will have to tell her
            it is okay "to go" and
"I will be okay"
The last thing you hear her say(yell) will be
            "Oh, God make it stop!"

In a few days you will have to hold her close
            as her last breath is taken,
you will have to sit with
            her dead body to wait for her lifelong friend
            to come and say goodbye,
you will be haunted by all you have seen, you will often be alone now,
you will have to endure the "knowing"
glances of everyone who knows and the
"ignorant" remarks of those who don't,
you will sometimes find yourself wandering around your home looking for
            something you can never find,
you will die some day too but you will be
            far less afraid of death.

I still get up very early in the morning; but, I don't have
            Colleen to fret over
so I nervously check
the windows "just one more time" before I leave
            as if the cats or dog might have opened them. 
I get halfway to the car and rush back to
            make sure I really did lock the front door. 
At least, this is the excuse I give myself.  
------

The Collected Chaff, v. 1.0     

Rubbernecking

"The world became still
as I rolled past
the accident and the
music suspended to a
painful silence."

I blocked
an ambulance
from turning
left,
no sirens --
only lights

The world became still
as I rolled past
the accident and the
music suspended to a
painful silence.

This scene
reminds me
of us;

I'm drawn to you
like a car wreck
and vice-versa.  This
is easier.

We rubberneck
at each
other throughout
life. 

I keep a collection
of twisted pieces from
the wrecks,

shiny metal
on the
mantle, on
the wall,
and carried
as shrapnel.
------

The Collected Chaff, v. 1.0     

We Are Admired

"On the battlefield, on
the playing field, the
dead have more to give.

Pick that man up,
dust him off, and
send him out again."

Your pain sensitizes me
for the day, already
a failure before breakfast.

We are admired for
pain we deny existence. 
Believing it does not
hurt, earns us medals.

Push past the wall;
play through the pain. 
Give voice to the
primal; scream it away.

On the battlefield, on
the playing field, the
dead have more to give.

Pick that man up,
dust him off, and
send him out again.

We do this every
day; it is an
old, old idea that
every step should ache.

And it gets older
every day.  Push past
the wall; play through
your pain.  Give voice
to the devil; yell
the pain away.  When 

your brain expires, the
flesh will decay, but
embedded in stone will
be gold-plate medals.

Push past the death;
play through the pain.
Give hurt your voice;
cry the pain away.
------

The Collected Chaff, v. 1.0