and he is only completely a man when he plays.
Friedrich Schiller
http://www.jimspitzerart.com/
Jack Crimmins Poem in Lilliput Review
The Sea Is Near Us
Always we are made
of what is lost.
Fractures in the soul
heal as we age.
The kites tread the air
near the vultures.
I still dance and chant
sometimes before the moon.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/edcolettipaintings/
what else?
when this body is gone
gone
when any body is gone
even gone
by its own hand,
even when it’s rotted
from cancer or burned
like a witch in the fire
it’s gone
as when my father’s ashes
on a shelf in the closet
appropriately weighing
twice as much as
my mother’s ashes
next to his
on that same closet shelf
merely simulate
presence
what else
I wonder
what else?
-- ed coletti (2010)
milesfrode@gmail.com
Poetry Azul Flier by Ray Swaney
tedateamerica@gmail.com
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