by her eyes

by her eyes 

Photo by Keikei

youth
that feather
on a morning
tide told me
i would know
the woman
of the
estuary
acquiescent
only to
the moon,
know her
by her
lip,
know her
by her eyes,
two leaves
two boats
in dusk
two olives
gathered
among the lemons

the sea be rosewater

the sea be rosewater
in memoriam of Manos, patron of the arts,
you shared your
laughter, sail in peace
beijing july 2009

Manos Pazianos, owner of the Aegean Arthouse Cafe in Beijing died suddenly two weeks ago; his dream of a white mediterranean square in this dusty circle is gone. These words are my tribute to the man I can hardly say I knew, but knew he was far from his island home we’d sometimes speak of:

in a word
it’s there
in the bay of your ear
in the turn of the page
of a newspaper
worse news on the other side

i heard of your death, friend,
a remark aside from someone
you knew, like a punch
over the heart,
remembered the last time
we met in the wide,
white upstairs of
your aegean café,
greece on the walls
you’d probably shared
a wine with the painters
congratulated them all
on the light coagulate
there on canvas,
we embraced, kissed
to raise a laugh
from those here
who don’t know
men are unafraid of men
like this in your land

up late

up late

    With acknowledgments to its creator for use of this image 

staying up late
for so many things
need to be said
the day will
not admit
nor spare you
a sheaf of hours
to thresh in saying,
for so many things
need to be said,
the town to be
replaced by a fade
of broken tears,
the loves unbought
to be paid for,
the prayers of wax