poem 310 of a poem a day for 2012

 de-glazing for one 

I've bowled and served

my regard to eat

as if my hunger

were oars 

in deep waters

tilling every skin 

of its desire

the sticky air outside

wants to get in as if

humidity is a bridge

in the gloaming

out there wanting

for a wish or two

to escape the din

of crickets in kept cages

and lucky strike boxes

cuffed in the bustle

of seeing time squared

on a coat checked

ticket in my

shirt pocket

that assures me

my fortune

is tied to my faith

of purpose in this

whistle stop river town

ghost coal hulls

slake along

the river’s moorings

quietly gathering pieces

of every memory

in my exhales while

September is bleeding

the ancient symphonies

of needing more

wool more wood

more seed more

flesh inside

the glass jars

I’ve wax sealed 

and put away

for the snowy days

in the pantry store

behind the kitchen

and I am at the table 

with one chair

and a candle lit

as the last of Summer 

is adrift and coming in 

as a late leaning waft

over the window sill

and just beyond

the curtain billow

a saucier lingers

glazed in a savory fond

that says this meal

with a glass of wine

was meant to leave

you here reaching

back out to where

the song of tomorrow

is a sauce, waiting

in that pan

over there

on the stove top

for some of

that wine too

EJR ©