Robert Combs

thru the ancient window
a fine spun blower's window pane
above the carrion winter courtyard
where my angels have gathered
...

I saw you
standing on the edge of the harbor
waiting for the ship
coming into sight
...

go insane
a game
I learned to play
...

awake
day 13
alone in the cold calm
of the purple desert
...

my hands once strong and agile
lie quietly in my lap
soft and fragile
where I once had hair
...

the stairway of my life
has no gilded edge
rather tacks
and splinters
...

when the river becomes a soft song
high leaves do their windy dances
never thought I'd live this long
living with these dangerous chances
...

the things I wish to tell you
cannot be said too quickly
and I never took the time before
and it's been a long time coming
...

what in the world
have I put myself into
this time
down on a dream
...

at a loss for splendid
insurgency
mindful of palpitant
rebellion
...

consider for a moment the key
consider the handle

I cannot tell anymore when
...

I am free
don't waste a minute grieving for me
a second ago I felt
a small breeze
...

and where do we go
from here alone
on a beach it's time
clicking like the sound
...

earth was used to make me
His breath to breathe
and a woman.... she stood
by waiting in the flame
...

it's 5 am in the Sonesta coffee shop
it's 6 am in NYC
it's 3 am where you are
and it's raining
...

last night watching the Pleiades
Seven Sisters dance among the stars
breath hanging in the moonlight
I noticed Orion's bow let fly
...

it is evening and
no one has seen us
walking hand in hand
through the dimpled twilight
...

lava rocks tempt my feet
sunlight skittering along the broken surfwall
assailed by savage bubbles
waving in the mandrill's soft smile
...

high noon
and the sun is at eleven
changing shifts
in the desert...cactus spikes
...

stay close
and listen to the fire in the sky
the world is spinning
faster as darkness
...