San Gregorio

Written on the beach, at night, in such dark that I couldn't see what I was writing.

The moon comes out from behind

the flowing gray mushroom

clouds while the lighthouse flashes

and comes around again and flashes

while the moon, looking for all the world

like a B&W copy of an Apollo photo

of all the world

only to be mysteriominousinisterly

swallowed by the myriad mountainous

milky vapours as a car's headlights

turn the road behind me

into a trip out of 2001

while the churning ocean beckons.

What kind of mushroom soup did you say?

It's so warm inside

me

I hope so I could sure use it

I sure feel like it

tonight

if you were here

I wish you were

so I could share

all I could carry with me with you.

I don't think I'll copy this poem.

It's because

without the light to write right by

it's itself.

The clouds have gone

leaving a star-studded sky.

They say a mature personality

is one that knows what it wants

and acts to get it.

Over there is the Big Dipper

Ursa Major and if you extend

an imaginary line through the

far rim about 7 times its length

you will see the pole star Polaris

by which you can find your way

in the dark.

I have bathed in the light of Polaris

and know what I want -

you.

Where I stand, here at me

I want to follow the North Star

until I can bask

in the warm glow of your love.

Ernie?

Oh yes, I had almost forgotten

about the one who answers to that name.

I've said I really dig him.

How I could i wish that he lose you

even to me?

All I really want

is to share.

But I can't end on that note!

I hope I haven't upset you.

How could I forgive myself if

I did something that ruined

our friendship.

Did you think I had forgotten

the beauty we have already shared?

I don't want to destroy what we have

I just want it to grow to surge

to blossom into all the things

it could be but hasn't so far.

The clouds are back

masking the moon

in an erry aura of awe

and the moon

and the mood

that allowed me to write this

pass.

Too late now

much too late to say

that I

love

you

too.

for Debbie von Kaenel
San Gregorio, circa 1969