Landine

Landine was asleep with some covers fallen off.Her skin was chilled in that strange way of sleepers, in that oblivion that prevents the simplest solution to the plainest need.She was dreaming of a parade. She sat on a float in driving rain in a flimsy gown held down to a bench of roses by sewing pins.She seemed to have been somehow stitched into the display, a maze of flowers and girls, where not all were visible to the crowds, as they would have been on a real float on a real day.As Milo woke up and tossed the blankets back over her, she dreamed of the sun bursting out. Its' heat caused the girls and flowers on the float to swoon with relief.

Her eyes opened with her nose still below the blanket. Milo was heating water and rolling up his long johns, just about to soak his feet. He was going about his business, and she was peeking at him. Well she knew he wouldn't lie back down once he was up. Her best bet was to get up and start acting productive, doing the chores, while still wearing nothing but a her nightgown. Of course, she then might herself realize that the things of the day were calling. For this cabin not to look like a robbers den of iniquity, she'd have to work steadily 'til afternoon. It looked like it might be a good day to air things out, like the winter was giving a little. The thaw was seeping through. She'd feel like a queen by noon. The cabin would be straitened up and the sun would be streaming in.

a simple success that takes a lifetime
we suffer in affections
on a foundation of need
plans are laid below marshes
until finally tradition
gives his blessing
determination in a woozy haze
the existence of love
and the pain in the neck

it happens!
vs. the scheme queen
set in the graveyard
as the mind rises
a step in the right direction
storms that skate
across eternal nights
the perfect hat
and embodiment of
vivid Christmas
ready to dazzle as usual
here we go then
into stillness
burdens and shocks
are addressed by sure commanders.

getting home late I found Emory's notebook lying on my bed with note- "read page 2"

The Wicket maze of woe
---------------------
The wicket maze of woe the ways
of life may go,I wonder
what the meaning of life is, maybe
it is to find your own meaning or to
enjoy it another frustrating question
is what happens
when you die are religious gods real
or even why anything exists in the first place
will those questions be answered who knows
we'll have to wait if so
the wicket maze of woe
the ways of life may go

The sea can see
because I am it's eyes
oceans of Shannon
with Gene Clark heart
life in a life boat
afloat on mud
that cured the Coney Island blind
to wash your feet with perfume
whose cost could have helped the poor
to dry them with my hair.
you awoke one morning with beautiful curls
I had dreamed of having so many children
I kept forgetting all their names
the mysterious painting titled
There Were No Words
appeared again
as Ariel, Eve and Me.

The light brigade
encounters wealth and time
the holy conundrum of pleiades
as sky foundation
we already rose from the grave
our flag emblazoned
Trust the Truth
collecting pennies
scattering pennies
we work with skill
and rest with depth
the surprise is innocence
the outcome
delight in good fortune