Exactly This Spot 

Everyone wonders why
I choose this seat in the
sunroom it’s kitty-corner
from the tv less comfortable
than the overstuffed and I’m
not too young for the rocker
“Want to sit here?” my wife
of wives offers her spot on
the couch and actually
means it my mother-in-love
sends generosity from her
recliner as if I’d ever “thanks”
I say “it’s all good” they think
I’m such a selfless guy they
don’t know because the sweet
suns of this room retire by nine
and then
through the unslid glass breezing
herself around the corner of the
breezeway comes the Moon
Shekinah-souled and Diana-drawn
like arched bow of delicious intent
she pours into the room gliding
toward exactly this spot each night
as if lightness were magnetized and
I was its allurement soft musk of
moonglow saturates space this
is its center and all the world
furnishes its slow circles around

…..“Nice makom you have here”
she beams.

(Makom: Hebrew, meaning “place” and “God”)

How Air Is

They fired me
and everything non-elemental
fell away the day lilies in the corner lot
said welcome home brother no spinning
or toiling here my stomach said if you’re
looking for the pit look somewhere else I have
a fear intolerance I expected panic
but got expectationlessness,
outcome turned to become.
they fired me, and I became incandescent
they ground me, and I turned earthen and
prime
they washed me away, and I found my own
level
they blew me apart, but you know how air is.

When I bowed and thanked them even
their toes smiled nervously.