Faith














The evening of her last day entered quietly,
soughing in on feet shod in silence and purple.
She listened for the rustling of the lilac branch,
the whisper of the breeze through the silver birch.
She listened in vain for the nightingale's call,
the shrill cry of the killdeer.
Hearing none she raised her voice--
sent up a song to the Father of Silence,
sent up a song in celebration
of the silence that was
and the silence that was to come,
and when she was finished
she listened--
to the slowing of breath
to the slowing of heart.
When it was finished
she listened and waited
in silence.

(Image: Jim Strong; Empty Chair)

Rouge,
Detroit











We were a city built on war
a city built on ashes
stone statues hacked to pieces
mixed in a river that overflowed
spat blood fire and ash
spat sand brick and stone
and the gods of industry took it as tribute
built railways boatyards a bridge
built Highland Park Cadillac Piquette
The Rouge
and the gods of industry genuflected
at the altar of the De-troit dollar
but war reclaims her own
and ashes return to ash
the spirits of the statues prevailed
rose up shattered
sand brick stone
rose up and shattered
sinew and bone
but the soul of the city still burns.
We are a city built on war
a city built on ash
crushed automobiles
rust in heaps
dreams lay dead and dying
violence in the streets
but in the end
we have nothing left to do
but rise.

(Image: Andrew Moore, The Rouge, Detroit Disassembled)

Cooper Elementary School
East Side

Nature wages war in empty halls
windborne erasure of blackboard
ghost voices echo
children long gone
Brick Book Stone Slate
Earth returns Earth
man’s work falls
conquered by crowns of daffodils
and the majesty of
Queen Anne’s lace.

(Image: Andrew Moore, Cooper Elementary School East Side; Detroit Dissassembled)

Ballroom, Lee Plaza Hotel
Detroit










City of dilapidated ballrooms
Ancient pianos
Gutted of strings
Stripped of the songs
that gave life meaning
Stripped of voice mechanism tempo
Who will sing for this city?



(Photo: Andrew Moore; Detroit Disassembled)

End Game















In the corner of the yard a raven coughed
echoing an old wives' tale
looming above
sky slate blue
sliver of outer space shining through
ominous cold.
Ice storm began
and I held out my hand
each crystal I caught disappeared
In the corner of the yard
a raven coughed
eyes of stone gray
refused to look away
I blinked and in that moment
you were gone.

(Image: Samuel Bak, Chess Piece, 1933)

Castle














It seems you’ve crossed into a land
I’ve never been--
stepped over
the metaphysical line
where life reaches out
and shakes death’s hand,
back again how does the light look
after hours in the tunnel?
does it blind the soul?
how long before promises made
in moments of panic
loosen their hold
and drift unmet into the aether?

(Image:Dmitri Zajtsev, Chess)

Opening Gambit











Atmospheric disturbance
almost electric,
inhale exhale
while Time holds her breath.
I stand in the gap--
between knowing - unknowing--
and All the while
the end of the world
is no more than
a heartbeat away.

(Image: Marcel Duchamps, Portrait of Chess Players)