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buckman
Firefly

USA
2829 Posts

Posted - 03/25/2021 :  17:02:18  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The Lesson

He told the boy it was time.
They got in the Chevy and
went to the empty parking lot
between Rockland Lake and Hook Mountain.

He got out and told the boy to drive.
It was the first time and he was nervous.
He told him there was nothing to hit and
nothing to go wrong, just give it a little,
play around, get the feel of the machine.

The boy accelerated over the empty blacktop
across the parking lines for awhile,
then turned the wheel right and
made a big circle as they laughed and laughed and
slapped each other on the back while the
blue of Rockland Lake kept passing by...

It was the best of times.

A few months and a half mile up the road
they would both disappear into the night....
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2829 Posts

Posted - 03/27/2021 :  00:57:27  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The Nightly Vigil - For Roisin [Who started it all]

Effortlessly she paints
Moonbeams from other planets.
Sounds from a future passed.
Colors remembered from dreams.
Stories from astral travels.
Windchimes with no breeze.

A taste recognized and pleasing.

All things considered...

~*~Rev Buckman ~*~
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 03/28/2021 :  20:03:03  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Thank you, Reverend B. A pleasure to share the pages. Good to see you here again. Stay a while.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 03/28/2021 :  20:27:16  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The City.

-Confluence where rivers come together with the Atlantic. Ship yards and gantry cranes. Shouts from the Piers. "That part of town..." she says. Traffic in the Harbor. Tugs alive. High pilothouses over the boxcars.

-Gods in the Cloisters. Knights in the Met. High windows guarded by gargoyles. Week after Christmas. New Paris Café. Snow on the air. Ice crystals. The poets in thrift shop sherpa and sandals. The room murky with smoke. The beat cop outside blowing on his coffee. Occasionally the Feds come by looking for Communists.

-Catalog shoots. Freight elevators full of frenzy. An avalanche of clothes. Elaborate sets. Choose the season, the skyline, the ambience, the view. Coffee on Hot Plates. Makeup behind screens by the fire escape doors. Catch the Battery breezes.

-"I saw you in the tunnels. White eye of the train down the line," she says.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 03/28/2021 :  20:35:32  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
White rooms. Old schooner in the harbor. Gas lamps in the evening. "An' all that water out there. Do you like it here...better than...? Take your sunglasses off," he says. Honey-stain sky. "Do you have a Passport?" he says.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 03/28/2021 :  20:38:19  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Brain stew," he says. "What's drippin' in the pan in the moment." His eyes so close. His mouth of invention. The way he sees and says things. They drive out to the ghost bowl place. Sit on the tailgate. Listen to wind rattle the stones.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2829 Posts

Posted - 03/29/2021 :  10:17:09  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I kept my eyes opened. Her eyes fluttered under her lids.
Maybe it was over for her, but never for me.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2829 Posts

Posted - 03/30/2021 :  09:43:36  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply

Sometimes we live like the world is
always going to be black and white
But,
then we age and we spend
most of our time living in the grays.
We tread those center lines,
walk the razor's edge and
Do our best just to get through the days.

It wasn't but a few years ago when
Just a glimmer would draw me to a flame
But, now these days even a raging fire doesn't
Get me close to even watching the game.

But,
There isn't a name for it
And there's no one to blame for it,
It's just time going by all the same.
If I could reach out and grab it
And just stop the tick of it
Maybe then I could remember my name.

They say we need faith and hope to get by,
But
It's hard
When deep down you can't forgive yourself a thing
You always thought there was plenty of time
Before you had to climb the stairs to that final fling.

But,
Don't the nights get so cold
And the news gets so old
And nothing ever seems to rhyme
If I could reach out and grab it
And just stop the noise of it
Maybe I could remember the time.

But,
There isn't a name for it
And there's no one to blame for it,
It's just time going by all the same.
If I could reach out and grab it
And just stop the tick of it
Maybe then I could remember my name.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 04/03/2021 :  18:54:11  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He tells the story. His voice like prophesy. His mind like blotting paper. Every fateful detail there. "No coincidence," he says. He remembers the riven shelf. How ice crowded in and split the stone. The crevasse black-dark before it gets to the bottom so you can't know how deep it is. She sits in a new pew. Smooth wooden edge that fits the backs of her knees. Stained glass. Candles. Frankincense. "It's so cold here," she says. "When are you coming back?" When she says his name out loud her voice makes no sound.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2217 Posts

Posted - 04/03/2021 :  18:56:13  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The children bring flowers with very short stems. Because that's the way children pick flowers. We float them in a shallow bowl.
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