Yes. I remember Adlestrop
The name, because one afternoon
Of heat the express-train drew up there
Unwontedly. It was late June.

The steam hissed. Some one cleared his throat.
No one left and no one came
On the bare platform. What I saw
Was Adlestrop - only the name

And willows, willow-herb, and grass,
And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,
No whit less still and lonely fair
Than the high cloudlets in the sky.

And for that minute a blackbird sang
Close by, and around him, mistier,
Farther and farther, all the birds
Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.

I saw you
from over the piles
of dust— brown
dashing

lying
a sneeze away

in stillness
I'll sit here now
to know
you more
without words
sense
your dreams
walk
in bits of time
laugh, cry
frame
a golden heart.

It is morning, Sunday
outside, the children run
screams, noises
she puts down the book she’s reading
a smile on her lips
childhood drifting in and out
her heart ripped
by the strings of a lonely guitar.

This woman-girl, a child on her own
playground different from theirs
her mind watching re-runs of movies;
stories; her dad’s words, "remember that boy?"
"no, but I remember how I felt"
and those muddy shoes!
the grass on her lips
she wonders how they end.

She puts on her glasses, hands trembling
it is windy
she exhales in a cloud of blueness
sighs about things that fade
and of childhood dreams and fears
that remain.

Heart, we will forget him,
You and I, tonight!
You must forget the warmth he gave,
I will forget the light.

When you have done pray tell me,
Then I, my thoughts, will dim.
Haste! ‘lest while you’re lagging
I may remember him!

Forget not yet the tried intent
Of such a truth as I have meant
My great travail so gladly spent
Forget not yet.

Forget not yet when first began
The weary life ye knew, since whan
The suit, the service, none tell can,
Forget not yet.

Forget not yet the great assays,
The cruel wrongs, the scornful ways,
The painful patience in denays
Forget not yet.

Forget not yet, forget not this,
How long ago hath been, and is,
The mind that never means amiss;
Forget not yet.

Forget not yet thine own approved,
The which so long hath thee so loved,
Whose steadfast faith yet never moved,
Forget not this.

Old woman rises from her slumber
Earlier than the sun
Sleep; an infrequent visitor in her world

She feels the burden of her world, heavy in her bones
Gently brushing a strand of silvery gray out of her eyes
She labors to unsteady feet

Slowly she makes her way to her window
To watch the moon shimmer upon the lake
She sees Them gently fluttering, awaiting the sunrise

Calling to her, beckoning her to join them
She pulls her robe tight about her, making her way outside along the shore
They are waiting for her there: The Otherkin

No cold wind does she feel,
Aches and pains forgotten
She sits upon the damp grass as they dance for her

They land softly upon gnarled hands
Beauty and age in stark contrast
They whisper to her , beckoning her to join them

She closes her eyes and flies with them
Over miles, years, time, space
Their music fills her heart and soul; she smiles

Once more she is with him; love of her life
From oh so long ago
Their music fills her heart and soul

Tonight she joins Them
The pain and fetters of age fall from her
She is young again; she is with him

The sun rises casting its yellow glow
Upon the lifeless figure of an old woman
Morning breeze gently lifting her silver strands

Peeking from a rosebud nearby
They sing; hand in hand
Together again

Wedding Poems