So Glad You Came

All music and merry,
your hands on the strings,
trading places and voices
and other fine things,
the cocktails passed,
don’t care whose is whose
’cause you’re all full of whiskey
and no one’s got shoes,

two gypsies wear top hats,
black leather and white,
while another keeps leaving
to check on the night,
one is a songbird,
her voice travels high,
and the player, he plays
with a smile in his eyes,

and the first flash of lightning
cracks open the sky
as the poets all gather,
some dead, some alive,
and tonight, the rain answers,
coerced out by Dylan
and Cohen and Jerry
and Ella and Gillian,

they stay in your pocket,
nights such as these
when something new happens
despite all you’ve seen,
and that is the magic
of friends round a flame,
where the truth tellers linger
and you’re so glad you came.

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Learning How to Moonwalk on a Thursday

It is never too late
to learn how to
moonwalk on a
summer night
as limes dissolve
into the glimmer
of reposado
beneath a moving
canopy of yellow
monarchs. I hope
that we believe
there is always
more dancing
to be done
and at ninety
when you yell,
Slide flat! Then lift!
Then switch!
I will laugh
into my tilted lawn
chair because
after fifty years
of practice, I still
won’t be as good
as you, and it
won’t matter as
I clap while you
glide, slide, lift, switch,
glide, slide, lift, switch
across the grass,
the sequins
of my one white
glove glittering
in the moonlight.

Dublin Sunrise

It does not matter that you
had not met before,
you know each other now,
and like the River Liffey
that flows blue
into the Irish Sea,
so have you come together
from your many
scattered sources
to this wild night, dark
and damp beneath
the waning crescent
of a disappearing moon,
and you would stay,
yes you would stay
with these fine
familiar souls
as song and lilting story
dance you round
the fire’s bones
until the Dublin sunrise.

New Moon Haiku

Everything I have
ever loved will become dust,
will become the sea.

May the things I have
seen, never become unseen.
May change come from this.

So many endings,
yet enough life left here to
hold each other up.

Beneath the dark moon,
tell me your deepest truth, and
I will tell you mine.

Fortune Teller/Erzulie

Voodoo girl,
you are my guru,
my sister,
my teacher,
my midnight preacher,
bare all, dare all,
beware all,
stoke your fire,
your deep desire.
These are the days of reckoning,
of beckoning,
and beckon you do,
by revelation,
quiet invitation
of all that is you,
undeniably true,
fortune teller,
fare-the-weller,
like a Petro loa,
a bayou boa,
jump in, jump in
to your center card,
your heart is your art,
your map, your chart,
lest you discover
this war is over,
your ship is sailing on
like the ripe red dawn,
and everything you need
is already on board,
your peace, your sword,
your just reward,
all you need tonight
by the white candlelight
is faith restored
and to climb aboard.