for winter

a consolation for winter
a clear view of sunrise
a longer track of birds
cutting through the frozen air
and bone white sycamore limbs
shed bare

one friend has enough
then storms away
another friend has more than enough
and returns in a tempest

the smallest, quietest
turns into breeze



so in love

Can you possibly imagine
the impression
of flocks of starlings
and grackles
and the annual crow migration
on the thirsty eyes
of a young boy?

Dark silhouettes
gliding through gray
milky skies
A waterfall of wings
golden elms
and evergreens
Conscious clouds
till pausing
in unison
and fleeing
the hawk unseen
alerted by silence
Every one
must listen

Can you even imagine
the sway
of the hush
feathers and air
on a boy
so in love with
the wind?



I wonder
if one day
some day
we’ll settle in
to our skin
just in time
to kiss goodbye
and break up
and fall apart
into rubble
stone and water
starting all over
as it was
in the beginning
and ever shall
be repeating

I wonder
if we’ll ever consider
the ordinary things
that affect time
like gravity
and where we place our feet
and stress hormones
and how fast bodies move
and away
from each other
and how time
would stop
all together
if those bodies
were to touch

I wonder
if we’ll ever reach
the irrevocable era
when blood
is freely given
never taken
when souls
are not forsaken
only heart-beaten
battered by loss
and unfettered adoration
marred by the scars
of tally marks
of the days
since we laid
down our arms
so as to lay
in each other’s arms



When you go to see the sun set
and your eyes are drinking in the blue
I hope you see the bats
and one bat pulls you to a faint star
as all other light fades
And I hope that star draws you
to every other star known
in an ever-growing constellation
And I hope you see the crescent-winged nighthawks
weaving through invisible threads
of that limitless midnight blue


Only pulsing

For one furious, ephemeral season
Cicadas make the even trees
To vibrate with erotic rhythm
The only pulsing pleasure seeking
The satisfaction of ensuring
Every summer night henceforth
Will bear the song of their offspringing


The ocean forgives you

The ocean forgives you
For using its name
and likeness
in all your poetry
and self-help meditations,
While you extract its life
in exchange
for small plastic coins,
your useless currency
now straining
its currents.
See how merciful
the ocean is
to you with short
salted memory,
the mother of
an ungrateful dependent.
As you take,
still she gives,
and will
until she turns to land,
or you return home.

©2017 Jeremy Ruzich