beyond leaves

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there’d be none next year
or the next for that matter
after trimmed for cords

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treezy twang thang

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it hit me today
have neglected my need
to get out in the middle of nowhere
and spend some quality time with a tree

the muse that lived there
sang with breezy rustles
in the grass and leaves
kinda treezy twang thang

is calling

the last dance

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(this is a linocut print of stylized rendition of a National Geographic photo of bones at pompeii – it struck me)

the music was vesuvius
blowing its top in orchestral crescendo.
sulphuric gas, pumice and molten ash
kept the beat, filled the air.

molten debris, ash and poisonous vapors
engulfed and suffocated all movement.
Herculaneum, Stabiae and Pompeii
buried under tons of volcano music there.

they danced deep long after melody
was as quiet as all last dancers.
their final moves for all time
indelibly etched one when and where.