The piper played the requiem
calling the mistral home
busy after the equinox
and blood moon eclipse
that set surreptitious specters
free from epic sleep
dreams of fanciful fancy
where the princess found
no charming after the storm.
Play piper a desperate dirge
so all souls can laugh at
such a jaded jiggered joke
that the death of dearth
requires on the day that
celebrates souls that travel
in invisible steam powered airships
bringing mortals dreams
filled with empty awakenings.
Celebrate the 15 minutes of fame
fortunate mortals endure
as their incomplete life
lacking luxury of immortality
while Mother Mary smiles
with tender understanding
tears falling from empty eyes
that once saw their truth
as only a moment lost in
a deep sea free of light.
Awaken from the night of
the dead now the once
roaming spirits return to
their simple existence of
pure languorous light to
to tell stories in poems
that the piper might play
again more eloquent eulogies
to charm those who can listen.
The midnight sun set on my dreams
that no longer mattered since
life left me on the side of the road.
Two robins packed for the last train south.
Trees now but skeletons of summer splendor.
The gypsy mystic was long gone from city streets.
Once alive parks and playgrounds empty of laughter.
How has our time together vanished so quickly.
Our halcyon banter evaporated like fog in the sun.
Joyful excursions through mountain flowers now dead.
We swam naked in a cold mountain river now frozen.
Bear sleeps hungry in a hidden musty forest cave.
Red Tail sails in the sun looking for a last meal.
My kitchen sink overflows with last week’s dishes.
Outside my window a lone flower longs to bloom again.
A dead boat lay solemnly upon white sand
too far from the turquoise water shoreline
at the border of impenetrable Mexican jungle
where Mayans and jaguars once held court.
Hemingway knew he should die in 1961
when there were no more stories to tell,
when everything became too hard to say,
when fiction had become too real to write.
A tall woman in a shimmering white dress
that glistened like scales on a silvery fish
arose from the sea sliding slowly to shore,
she more for living on land than in sea.
A lone red buoy bobbed in a gentle swell
witness that all had been finally resolved.