Flush

Elizabeth, let me count

Because you make me laugh

a humor that comes from your full self

the belly rings, the mind dizzles

the heart sing a—ling-a-lings

Because once you held me in your arms

when I was troubled, sorrow

ripping my heart

my friend had jumped off the edge of the earth

trapeezed to the arms of death

your comfort

nestled me into the warm arms of life

Because you have known me all my life

and I have never been afraid of you

love your force your wit, your directness

which scares other people away

attuned to convention

the absurd, the obvious

I love you for your reverence

no, not just for your lord, but for what goes

beyond the imaginary and touches

the heart of the real

I love you for I have known you

Since your birth, even when no more than

a few, non-essential sentences have

passed our lips, caressing each other

with the familiarity of blood, of kin

you did not hate me when others did

struggling with the battle of self

How many ways?

So numerous, so many

so many people

for whom I count for

the salvation  of libing

who bring succor to quench

How we love some folk

we do not know

because their music

their voice

their actions, their words

touch the fiber of existence

who farm the fertile soil

of our lives

 I love you thee for substance

for food grew made bought

draughts of sweet tea

champagne, to celebrate

the beauty of life

the passing of life

the honor of being

among the living, the giving

(not the taking)

Of life

How, o, how, sweet Elizabeth

We love thee                         

n  22 January 2018    j.m. frase-white

Thank you E.B. Browning and Parker Stone for interrupting my teenage life, taking me to Wimpole Street

in a strange little town , on the banks of the Choptank, meeting a dog named Flush

[and a special dedication to Sondra Layton, (now Leinweber),  Elizabeth to my Robert]
Note:  the photograph is from Metro-Golden Mayer's film, starring Jennifer Jones as Elizabeth in "The Barretts of Wimpole Street", and an unnamed springer spaniel as Flush

Sunday

Four AM

Across the river, over the village

Clouds have drawn a blanket

Silencing starlight

So quiet, pockets of white snow

tented under street lights, porch lights

(children flashlight reading undercovers)

Silent night

Even the occasional vehicle

Soundless fireflies

Disappearing into the black

The world, capable, every night

Of peace

around this great globe

Somewhere it is noon, evening

4 in the afternoon

Somewhere someone is going

Echoing or going beyond/beneath my knowledge

I recall those years

The clock roostering the 4 o’clock morn

Aroused readying for work

To break the night’s fast

For a town by the sea

Or the long drive

To study the thoughts of children

Other nights to caress with eyes

your lover’s prone figure

Asleep, comforted by

the warmth of that body near

that being that loves you

In another room, so quiet

The soft breath of your loved ones

Or the purr, or sniffle, the snore of a furry beast

And in the warm months, the exotic

Always exotic melody of birdsong

Or the howl or scream

Of night creatures

The erotic coyote

The victorious fox

The hoot of the owl

The snore of the neighbor

In the apartment next door

How precious is life at 4 am

Our blessings to count

When not cowered in fear

The shiver of a muted jet

The silence of a drone

true threat, or pious paranoia

The night knows that

As the world can slumber together

And go about the produce of the day

To plant, to grow

To bake and cook

To sip and laugh

At 4 am we are whole

United by the nation of sleep

4:32 am January 21, 2018

Witness Forty

Bright Blue of Young Stars, Watercolor, 1979 or 1980 (Pittsburgh, PA) 

I witness, outside myself

 You laughing

the room lighting up

the moment I first saw you

across the room

Sporting in Boston

lifting a glass

your hair African wild

I witnessed a beauty

desire, in April

In a summer outdoor cafe

sitting w/my poet friend

you walked by laughing with your friends

I witnessed myself, out of my body

walking too, knowing I wanted

to walk with you the rest of my life

On Christmas night

I witnessed a miracle

you, walking into playland bar

under a garland of white starry lights

surprised, recalling your name

a walking gift, under the ribbons

of light on the boston common

you came home with me

40 years ago it was

now, home in our Vermont

I am witness to a happy life

always surprised that it is mine

bearing witness to the love

 that is You. 

                                                                                     

Happy Anniversary, my Chuck 2018

Lotus of Compassion, a  gift window for Chuck, 2018