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Miscellaniana for Michaela

I didn’t read your letter
After seeing the first five words
I choose to regard the contents as being
A deliberate mystery
To be apprehended only by those
Who know not the context
Or those who attempt the apprehension thereof, anyway

Everything I do or say
Relates to you
And what we did or didn’t have
At least when I speak as an artist
(And isn’t that what life is all about?)

As birds glide gently down
Onto the top of the barren rock
In the bay
I think about their destination.
If one clings to the rock too long
It will miss its chance
–Suffering no allusions
Free from the poet’s embrace
But remaining on an island of its own making

And so I walk the return path
Whence I came
With great chagrin
Because we all know
A once-in-a-lifetime chance
When we see it

Seemingly discarded wedding flowers
Lie on this path
Left by some forgotten party
One wonders how long they will last
Before they crumble
And turn to dust
I too was once entranced
By the possibilities of Love’s Fortune

I walk further in return
And see a seagull shoot quickly into the sky
And fly purposefully up, then touching down, onto
The crest of the nearby hill

How ironic that when we heed the
Advice of some of those around us
We sometimes end up alone and disillusioned
The group is often right
But it can be wrong too
And very wrong indeed
Especially in matters of the heart

They never saw the moments
I lay motionless in the morning
So as not to wake you
So that you would have full energy
To face the joys of the day
I don’t know a greater love
Than that