Brick by Brick

On Marriage

We have built our house together, you and I
in hard earned 2x4s of time. We burned
well measured blueprints. Made other stairs to climb

Filled our rooms with mouths to feed. Painted walls
in bold colors to cover cracks and stains. Our memories
collected. Hang picture framed of brighter days

Above, a roof to patch to hide. For warmth above a bed we made
and unmade too in fights and tears. Talk and love. The toss and turn
of children’s midnight fears. We have hammered nails that bind

to hold us safe. Cantilevered. An artful arts and crafts design
Learned the will of a living earth. Contract expand. A crack
a crumble. Clean up the mess. Begin again

When we have left with chandeliers and lights dimmed
to match the dark who else could take the shell we built
create the hidden home that we have

The Last Word

The Last Word

I have seen the river run with blood

After dawn woke peaceful. Still cold
but with the damp scent of spring

I have watched sunlight on the water
Life reflected into fire. Heard the vultures sing
of heaven. Dance in circles. The immortal taste of flesh

I have felt the pulse of life grow weary
Known, too late, dawn’s other choices
Night has come. We don’t take anger with us

Only love

What Come of Waiting

What Comes of Waiting

What comes of waiting

First passion aged
the taste complex. Love too
became a vintner’s drink
the bitter blissful buzz

The volunteer. The drafted men
who left and leave by choice or need
Dug trenches into graves. Their women
sowed forgotten seed

Water’s languid kiss, the rock’s demise
Flames for heat slow burned to ash
Invited guest, the late trespass stay and stay
The hole is filled. The ground left soft
as breath had been

We found them here. What comes of waiting

Notebook Series #2

Notebook Series #2


inside the force of creation
rebuild the wings of Icarus

soar on sinews a gentle lift
through feathers on the wind

from rapacious bird to zealous explorer
against the current of history’s lessons

to reach the galaxy of gods
face the nuclear sun full knowing

someday you will fall

The Moon

The Moon Image
Moon Lady
Judy Pfeifer, 2013

The Wind, he swelled
to meet The Moon
She came through the quiet night
Alive and awake
Plucked from ashen skin
while sleep fell over the world below

like dew
from leaves
under wind swept fingertips

The Moon, she lifted
like a vessel

like a poet

Hidden behind her silver veil
Tired and free
and lonesome
Losing ground
Gaining space
She traveled with her mysteries

Home again
to spin silver linings into clouds
As best she could
(She only has two hands)

No matter how she waxed
No matter how she waned

The Moon, she remembered
How The Wind whispered
Over her curves
Along her edges

He will be your undoing,
sang the stars
A Greek chorus
Ladylike voices
Oh, I know,
she replied
I want to be undone

Hidden behind her silver veil
Shy and frightened
and eager
through the dark night
She fell to him

Tender heart woven safe
behind her words

Will you come again?
she called
Will you be my lover?

But I am The Wind
I run free
Your arms will never hold me

The Moon, she said
If I wanted a rock
I’d call for a rock
Stable and hard
and unmoving
The weight of him to hold me
in the place I left him

I didn’t call for a rock tonight

I called for The Wind
His mind his only boundary
His north side bitter
with need so sharp
covered in quills
I can’t reach it

He shifts from the south
Warmth along my hidden valleys
and I forget his wanting
lost in my own

You sinner
You saint
I called for you
because I want The Wind

tonight. I can’t give you tomorrow

Who knows why?
He couldn’t refuse

The Wind, he swelled
to meet The Moon

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