two times three-dog-night

at twenty-two

i was the old man of the crew

spiking hammers singing thru the air

steel rails ring

nipping nudging them over for the embankment

a perfect curve

can be a beautiful thing

when building a railroad siding

like singing

joy to the world

along with a half-dozen mangy heads

hair wrapped in ponytails

sweat like greasy bare muscle

from kentucky through west virginia

every hollow with an echo

rivers of steam & haze

'til night falls

and the music rises

--- e b bortz

earth note 748

when the high grass sways

shadows roll out

like an incoming tide

what's connected is momentary

bound by no stagecraft

never repeatable

i look for landmarks

on the old barn road in the park

the last of the hemlocks

look for sanctuary

a dog barks toward the moon

rising and fading into the blue

--- e b bortz

earth note 747

i admit that i've used

the forest and every offshoot

parasite or not

as a means of escape

river current staggers home

after years of wandering

like a promise

finally kept

relevance may be an outlier

even if it begins and ends in plain sight

eventually everyone needs to learn

how to dig with their hands and feet

i hide on the north side of the house

the dark side of the valley

but this is not abandonment

--- e b bortz

earth note 746

after a warm morning rain

you know it'll be getting hot

like steam off the pavement

& a chorus of songbirds & others

     non-speakers too

staking out their sanctuary inside the canopy

there's no need to make up

more scenarios

everything will transition when it's time

a pair of cardinals

cooing mourning doves

blue jays in full voice

yellow finches

skittish sparrows

crows will gather later in the day

& two hawks usually return

by late afternoon

by tomorrow

the north pole will be at its maximum tilt

toward the sun

--- e b bortz

before we lose it all

i wanna reread

camus the first man

and neal cassady the first third

there's a way someone else's life

can pry you open to the day's first light

even when all else is forcing the great darkness

the back alleys of denver are not so far

from the ocean walls in algeria

the grind of desperation shoes

stepping beneath billboard shadows

always walking always talking incessantly

words against hopelessness

like it's all we have

there are deserts that bloom

through nightmares

see them

for the beauty

of what they are

--- e b bortz

blending in

toledo 1955

on moore street

a cluster of jews

against the current

in a river of catholics

mainly polish

and a few southern anglos

like the cowboys next door

     my best friend buster

and his older brother

with a black '48 mercury

bubble-skirts and glass packs

and slick-back hair

the roar up and down the street

turning your head

but never bringing complaints

     but then

what does a 7-year-old know

when hopelessly tasting his own blood

in a back-alley boxing match

the family with lots of kids

     and crucifixes

my cheering section

--- e b bortz

strawberry moon

photo by Sandra L Hazley

in every halo

there's a contrast

a dissonance long after

an afterglow

root to leaf

light to life

all visions

transitory

--- e b bortz

earth note 745

you need more than a concrete hand

to hold the banks

of a great river steady

in a downpour

the forest once reached the river flow

drank the language and wisdom

of algonquin nations

building articles of consensus

growing maize

honoring ancestors

as there are many

yet to be sung

--- e b bortz

yes the anger is justified

as are the tears

and the love

every hand is a heartbeat

rising from the street

even with fear

a million shoulders will bear witness

--- e b bortz