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Person-to-Person [for Pat]

parentsMy father’s poem to my mother:

when I talked to you
on the phone the other night
after twelve years of no contact
and you with two kids
by another man I’ve never met and don’t want to
I didn’t recognize your voice at first
with its southern accent and matronesque maturity
but I knew it was you and in my wayward mind
whose thoughts I don’t seem to control too well
even after all these years
you were nineteen naked
and it was the first time
all over again

L.W. Seeley, Jr.

Epiphany II

In a clear night of a billion stars
our bodies bundled from the cold
we stood upon the ancient hill
touching each other and the world

as spirits swirled around our heads
the chanting and the drums below
evoked another universe
we would never comprehend

as all our world was kept at bay
for one almost eternal moment
we knew the pureness of ourselves —
now you are gone

L.W Seeley, Jr.

Flow

When once we ran to the river as children
we saw the spirit of the water
moving swiftly through the patterned current
and the sun shone
as the dead leaves
dropped lightly on the water’s surface
and were borne away.
Each grain of sand reached out
for the wet sunlight
and we were not in the water
but of the water
and the sand was soft and glistened
and the sun warmed our necks
and everything flowed
in one direction.

L.W Seeley Jr.