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Clear as Night

In an ugly little room
By the side of the sea
The Sun still slow rises
For all, for you and for me.
With no gods, monsters, or ghosts;
We poor few make our own way
Thru the sadness of clashing agenda;
We’ve little room to have our say.
Yet so majestic the Sun claims honor-
Brooks no question, no how nor any why;
But once every twenty-eight days comes Luna
With the Full Moon to rule the sky.
All simple full answers do clever hide
To yield to the curious at the Hobnob.
Less surprised, we find, are all of us:
Of course you’re the one for the job!

Wait On Tomorrow

In the flat awful of your newly broken heart,
Find that space for a (yes) scant new start.
It’s a hard surprise, a twist in the plot;
It’s your chance to show ’em what you got–
A vision true to see over the far yonder hill:
That happiness can still find you, I know it will!
So repair to a bed that druther entertain two
That is again graced with the joy of just you.
Wait on tomorrow.
See the new day.
Start a new poem!
Whattaya say?

Uh/Say Goodnight

Uh
Yes he was dressed
As usual, distressed
As you’d know
A phone unrung
And plans uphung
As you’d know
The nick was stippled
As the ground rippled
Nowhere to go
Back in the house
Quiet as a mouse
Nowhere to go
Paid some bills
Dollar sign thrills
Is that the phone?
Run to the door
But there’s more
Is that the phone?
No one there
A buzz in the air
Say goodnight
Back to bed
Down lay the lonely head
Say goodnight
The cat meowed
As is allowed
He opened the door
But there she stood
Drenched in her parka hood
As you’d know
It began with a glance
You have to take a chance
As you’d know
Say goodnight