Honor of the Time

Half-moon morning,
bright pink eastern sky;
to the south, cool blue

It's January spring.
The sun slants kindly on
budding trees.

I'm a ghost, walking
the path I walk
every morning.

A ghost of honest memory
taking the well-worn path
that I know so well.

The honor of love
is lingering on the air,
a lava heartbeat.

I see a woman
in the distance, her muffler
wrapped about her neck.

She also sees me,
this thin morning ghost,
and she smiles.

When we meet on the
sidewalk, we do a small dance
in honor of the time.
   30.Jan.81

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For some reason, this poem commended itself to me recently. I really, really like that last stanza. And the especially nice thing about it is that it's essentially a true story.

Coincidentally, the Rev. Dr. Omed has posted a poem he wrote in my honor back in 1982. As he says, we've known each other a long time; at least since 1978, possibly as early as 1974 or ‘75.

In this poem, he mentions "Jason & the Argonauts". This is (I flatter myself) a special tip o’ the black hat to me, for I had written a song Dana loved, which had this refrain: "Jason and the Argonauts go sailing late tonight / I guess you'll have to find your love by candlelight."

If you're especially good, I may post the lyrics to the song after I've gotten past these Advent entries.