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In the rearview mirror (4)
In the rearview mirror
the flash of mountains
the crest of waves
the gentle lapping
lull of a looned lake
at sunrise
In the rearview mirror
infants born in mystic
magic mystery
screaming
real red outrage
grow
giggle
gape
and go
In the rear-view mirror
grandparents wave
and tangos in
moon- light
on soft sanded
talcuum beaches
beat bongos
powder puff past
wind blown
in the rear-view mirror
tides are rushing
splashing
and receding
to a fine thin black line
in the mirrored
rear-view
of this middling journey
falling fast forward
into the shimmering
rear-view mirror
waiting
All the way or no way at all (3)
No half-way
half-hearted
tries for this
whole world
Timorous
touches
half offers
fall flat
In this whole
world rumbling
with trouble-fixing
from warming earth
to that child waiting for
a net as the skeets buzz
Don’t give me no
half-way measures
As grandpa said
they just don’t cut it
you just don’t cut it
half way doing is
no doing at all
Reply
The Walk (2)
Across the waxed wood
gleaming
glowing
softly
a smile o’er
open-arms
outstretched
hands
waiting
as I
pause on
trembling legs
and begin again
to make my way
****************
I don’t want no half-way hands (1)
I don’t want no halfway
hands – fumbling over
me, leaving fumbled
fingerprints on my
heart, in my head
I want all-the-way
hands grabbing me
hard and sure
and lovin’ me
certain – solid
soaring
forever
arrived
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