Wednesday, April 27, 2011

To a Lighthouse



Then again. Here, the former site
of a nineteenth century shipping dock
now a concrete slab overlooking
the East River. I was younger then
[the shoeprint gives it away], time
was for lovin' the hell out of you.

Jesus preaching for the apostles
Be his light dude, not his judge!
I try to understand what he means
While setting the table for Easter
Promisse me you'll never be sad
on my behalf kid. Remains are silent.

You call and bring forth what's within
you. And that's when the missing starts.
I write you and there's no end unless.
The kid looking amazingly cool at
the back of the Plymouth Voyager.
And I do not know where to drive.