middlin'
easy slides the trombone
with the gutteral
honesty of the throat
squeaky of tone or
gravelled
textured as sound
with truth
a point to be made
while you
tap toe
turn leaf
take hand
type text
tiptoe like right hand runs
to memories
too magnificent
in their
rear view mirror
hum
bob and clark
mellowing but bringing
questions with easy answers
more mining of my memory
that faulty system
adjusting the hue
of phenomena so familiar
a flugelhorn and a trombone
of one family but
such distinctly
differently
dealt with
drivers
destinations
derived due to
deemed deliverance
from what, no
to what
now only
and your smile
as you bob your
head
sending blessings
to your fellow beings
true story
intent is too often
defined after action
and that's just time
doing it's hide and seek
never being where you are
because everyone's already
there
realities abutting endlessly
and always able to fit
made to
unquestioned spatial definition
because that too is unknowable
intent is unknowable
hunted, studied, questioned, raked over coals
and even truths derived
by sheer might of evocation
seem false in quiet
thought
perfect day
she broke the news
so quietly I had to
ask her to repeat it
and then I didn't
want to believe it
the memories
attatched to his
work and play
flooded me
but the acceptance
followed swiftly
like the next
line of a song
gratitude to a universe
capable of housing
such a soulful son
so sharing of his
scope and sense
she and I spent
the earlist morning
sining and saying
smiling
she'd be sweet jane
sweet nicky
cassandra
give it a name
sweet lou
Poems: Rob Lescatre
Painting: "View of Ute Mountain from McElmo Canyon in the Winter" By Derek Alvarez
