Roger A. Rose

April 19,1995


At the morning table I view my world
...

I lay on my back, gazing at the majesty of the ebony sky;
playing connect-the-dots with the silver spots,
drawing pictures with my mind.
Clouds whisk by, sculpted by unseen winds in whimsy,
...

It was in the Dead of Winter I saw them,
glowing under deep fallen snow.
Eerie fluorescence showing supernatural.
Strange lights somehow comforting,
...

I remembered the first of the days,
when Mama dragged me by the hand,
heel-dug in the gravel of the playground;
into the unknown.
...

We watched him in the stark room.
Our vigil.
Mother stayed through the day,
we by night.
...

O the damned white of winters cloak
and the biting winds of 'Northers soak
into the skin and into deepest soul
of those who brave the coldest howl
...

The thought came to me as I contemplated
my rapidly advancing years; my three-score
and ten very soon to be upon me.
I thought: The old dog still can bark; the old
...

The New Year slipped in,
I was reading and didn't feel.
My Love was asleep upstairs
and the house was still.
...

Remember the long days
of endless summer.
How we passed from childhood
to arrogant youth?
...

Ol' Mabel ain't purty and it's such a pity,
she was just perfect in her younger days.
Now she's old and she's tired and just sits in the yard.
prob'ly I done used her just a little too hard.
...

I was dreaming,
Yet wished I were not.
He was sitting there
In the wheeled chair,
...

I didn't know what help to give,
was lost as to help you live
like we did in times gone past;
to get back to health that will last.
...

As the brush flowed the oils
across the staring blank canvas
I thought of you my beautiful sister.
...

Exit the ways of connubial bliss,
and leave behind the ones you'll miss.
Remove yourself from hearth and home;
split the family and go off alone.
...

Prejudice seated deeply
in dark recesses.
Placed far back in forgotten
memories.
...

In the crisp spring air,
basking in the noontime sun
even as winter snow remained,
verdant shoots pushed upward
...

You own the morning, and I own the eve.
You are the sunrise, and I am the stars.
In between,
the dark and the light become we.
...

Blow you wicked, merciless wind.
Whip mind clouds to a murky froth.
Bring on the evil tempest of despair.
Drive on the surly, turmoiled broth,
...

Songbird, sing a song of me.
Make it sad, make it long. Empty loneliness sing.
Tell of building Walls, hiding behind, and never free.
Safety in internal solitude, where joy cannot ring.
...