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Ron Aug 2020
She weeps,
Never to see her true love again.
Soft cheeks gleam wet on her face.
She might ask where now
Her love may be found.
Past streets of longing
Empty is her place.
The passing of my neighbors spouse, married 52 years, I mourn for her loss.
Ron Aug 2020
The west wind screams,
A hard rain comes,
Beyond the sound,  
Of this immediate need,
the noise of near thunder,
turns the sky’s great lock.
Ozone fries as lightning flies,
A tattle wind tries to escape.
Young as I peered,
through my bedroom screen,
when the gods of weather,
struck me dumb.
The love of the storm,
Still ignites my sadness,
One inch of love,
is another of madness.
Ron Aug 2020
Grim deserts consumed but not eaten
while in the midst of agonies that linger
provide no good taste for truths untold

requested at the table for lies and lecture
slurping bland soups of social conjecture
never have I cared for liquid meals

I am served a gamey, and dark stained fate,
Like a child, I play with the thoughts on my plate
Impulse at the table, feeding my foolish pride

It is not that I need this food to hoard
I am no less hungry as I am less bored
different perhaps, but still hungry inside

Only now do I hunger after my power of will
To taste and ingest, to possess and then wield
A potential fulfillment for life’s wonderful meal.
Ron Aug 2020
Just as I locked my door, and pocketed the key,
I glanced over my shoulder only to see,
My tortured soul staring back at me.
'Look, I said,
"this name is your name, this door is your door,"
And though I accept that now; why did I put the key,
in the back of my mind to hide it from me?

So my soul let me go,
but my name has been lost,
Along with the key.
Ron Aug 2020
Lights through a thousand dappled leaves,
Recall my mind from a noon day nap.
The shadow of a tree grows winding on my wall,
Through the variegated path of my window screen.
The tree on a hill shares the sun's bright light,
Warming my shades only partly drawn.
All life is now shadow in my room it does seem.
And now I know not if I wake or I sleep,
Music breathes through the silence to sing,
Wind in the shadows tree leaves or a song?
Drawn from a violin with shadows for string,
Be this visual music within my dream?
Ron Aug 2020
Walking beside a river,
I watch my silly shadow dance,
From ripple to ripple in wild romance,
With the rivers frantic drop,
to clear and brilliant pools.
What does the river see,
In my shadow unfettered and free?
One thousand sparkling eyes in sun,
Reflected from its liquid run?
Or is it only an admiring gaze,
The wisdom of the river seeks?
Ron Aug 2020
Were my light even brighter
I would be invisible
I could live concealed in my realm
never once knowing
the absence of joy
I would be stunned
by that void
into which shadows vanish
forms dissolve
and in falling,
I would imagine flying
without a sky
Only sounds would reach
My surviving memory
Clear as a tinkling bell
and never again
Would I have need,
for feigning introductions,
or false niceties.
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