Sunday, May 22, 2011

the choice...


The dappled light – moves
painterly –
the walk – is
an expression of trust and
understanding.

The morning –
as always - is
a new beginning
allowing one the ability to look forward
and back.

The choice – is
arrived at
and seen colored
by sunlight, filtered
through thick
green trees.

It is thoughtful -
turned by a thin slice, a sliver
glimpsed  -
at night as a waning crescent moon
on the dark horizon
or by day barely visible
yet – repeated
over and over again.

The cycle - is a detailed dream
one wants to remember
to tell a lover
after a long and restless night
then awakes with a start
perhaps
remembering nothing.



J.E. Dorsey – for L.D.

Copyright © 2011. Doug Claybourne. All Rights Reserved.

Fourteen Irises...

 
Fourteen purple Irises stand
as tall sentries in our garden -

where only two stood

a few days ago.
Another gray day in Brooklyn unfolds
as May brings only questions
not our answers.
Yet all the blooming witnessed here
reassures my sturdy heart.
Our wild birds await their meal
and now –
twelve white French Irises
replace the two from only days ago –
and a tiny violet flower
I’ve yet to identify -
springs forward within the grouping
as an exotic voice speaking
to the large mystery of life.
It is so quiet this Sunday afternoon
not even a jet approaches LaGuardia -
even the F train is not running today
where weekdays the trains enter and exit
4th Avenue and 9th Street like clockwork.
Our shy cat has eaten her breakfast
and only Thursdays must I move my car
for street cleaning.
So, I sit still writing -
while my partner is running
I am searching inside myself
to find the soul of poetry.
I will fill the bird feeder late today – and wait
for feathers to fly or a breeze as a sign – that god is not dead
but alive in the bloom of spring.


J.E. Dorsey – for L.D. & S.F.
Copyright © 2011. Doug Claybourne. All Rights Reserved.

The Irises...




The Irises are blooming

two purple

two white –
and - it rained last night
a sad gray light
falls this morning in spring tears.

An old wooden ladder stands against our slatted fence
on each rung sits a memory -
metal chairs I know from smiling photographs when we first met sit wet with raindrops.
The fire escape shrugs its broad shoulders
against this quiet setting watching our
love affair with life.

A recently planted dogwood stands
proudly next to the worn out ladder –
we can reach out to her white buds
a remembrance of our dear friend – Joie de Voive.
Further away,
a rose bush full of bright pink blossoms is alive -
almost laughing with the joy of her beauty,
much like the artist she represents in memory –
a dear friend, Vita. Bless her soul.

This old backyard in Brooklyn –
is full of history
the Japanese maple planted ten years ago
for Laura’s grandmother
thrives at the center of our sacred garden.

The bird feeder is empty now -
when seeded, the first sparrow lands.
Then, a green necked pigeon.
All this life is seen
just beyond our office windows –
into our twenty by sixty foot piece of land.
Our long stone walkway was laid by hand
And at the end of the path – is grandma’s maple.

A dozen pigeon’s now enjoy
the limbs of the Lilac tree they feed beneath.
Six sparrows – twist the feeder
dropping seed below.

It all happens in some kind of blessed silence
excepting the flapping of wings
and the occasional screeching of birds
large and small.

Passenger jets fly high above
on arrival to LaGuardia
a sudden flurry occurs
as a squirrel disturbs the peace – then disappears.

Then the return
as life’s delicate cycle continues
all before the arrival of the full moon.















J.E. Dorsey – for LDN
Copyright © 2011. Doug Claybourne. All Rights Reserved.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Joie de Vie


Joie De Vie


She died today
she passed away
our friend and sweet companion – Joie de Vie
her warm purring slowed – then stopped
all the love and generous affection dropped out –
flowed out of her eyes in seconds
only a single breath in May took her.

A moment of struggle
and her gentle life was gone
escaped somewhere
into the ether of
we don’t know exactly where.

Perhaps the life stream
we sometimes speak about
fantasize and think about
the somewhere souls may go –
the spirit place
we believe exists.

As otherwise why persist
in our day to day silly pursuits
for no good reason
and to no noble end.

She passed today – the sixth of May
with soft reassuring words spoken
about the good life she led
me rubbing her head – my love, tears
in her eyes, speaking in whispers – then listening
to only the faintest sounds
a cat might utter in the pained release
of last farewells.

And there she lay in my dear wife’s arms
as her heart gives way to age and some disease
leaving only the memories of thirteen years
to appease our ache of loss.

Covered now, by earth and stone
shrouded in a monogrammed towel,
a cherished great grandmother’s gift –
she lay quiet, resting -
positioned to watch the birds bathe
and sing throughout the days,
giving our sorrow filled hearts a lift
as she is not alone.

Joy flew this day
with wings
as if she became
the very bird she spied upon
and so admired – the bright cardinal, the proud robin,
one of the many pigeons,
a small sparrow,
or is the tiny hummingbird our Joy of Life

Our black and white feline observer
Who lay for hours, head cocked
large yellow, almond eyes fixed and watching solely
our feathered friends feeding
only few feet overhead.

Then, all at once
she would stand
losing interest
and walk easily back
to our rear door or window
where she would wait patiently
whiskers to screen
looking for one of us
in a moment
to gain attention
to find her way back
inside.

She passed away today
Joy of life –Joie de Vie.




J.E. Dorsey – 05.06.11 – 1:55 pm – for Fur ball, Joie-ber, Joie-be, Love Bug, Number One Kitty and L.D. who loved her dearly for her morning love and triple spoons.