Goby’s Journal: September 27 – October 4, 2015

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Goby's Journal
September 27, 2015

Spelling –she made them
	casting far
& broad

	The Seedlings

		interrupted by

	hope
with nowhere else to go

Grow them by the door step
	two by two, each of a kindness
we have not seen lo these many years

Poetry generates poetry, though I can not speak it
Every one of us, lost
		in our own mother’s tongue



Goby’s Journal
September 29, 2015

Days without sun
There was the Black Stallion before he became famous 
	
	in my dream 

	I rode a bicycle down 
a long hill 
	weaving from one
		side of the path 	
	to the other

the door to our apartment
on the wrong side of the hall

When I entered the room 
I saw from the loft that the auditorium 
was already filled 

Tomorrow, I will learn about trees


Goby’s Journal
September 30, 2015

Learning the names of the trees

We are waking from a collective dream
Storms at sea, days without sun

Wet roof tops mirror the sky


Goby’s Journal
October 1, 2015

Days with sun

Curbside streams ferry fallen leaves
broken umbrellas

I don’t want to understand
	
	 this poem

a shower of words late in the afternoon

is everything we wished for

Animals have taught me another way

	neither from or about

they have taught me


Goby’s Journal
October 2, 2015

The oldest tradition is without borders

Days without sun

Missing the walk among the trees
I failed to rescue myself from dreams

Joaquin is lost at sea



Goby’s Journal
October 4, 2015

No sun for days
the streets of Carolina
are awash with rain

houses dissolve into the sea
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