In Retreat

Hummingbird feeder hangs from the birch limb, empty.
Patio umbrella folded in the winter sun.
Each movement produces a surprise, a flash of aching.
Each flutter of the heart an eddy in the air above.

Each damnable moment eludes the idle wanderer,
A breath, an image takes him back into the cave,
The dankness of neverland, the solace of impossibility.
Each sure footfall renews the present.

Wind says, be still. Crow says, beware. Acorn says, be patient.
Universe says, the courage to dream is not the same
As the willful attachment to a fantasy.
A cell without its nucleus is destined to die, no DNA, no blueprint.

All his hardwired neural pathways of not-enough,
Like snow trails that never thaw, harder with each new storm.
Frantic to find some solid ground, a place without illusion.
Better to slide the icy slolom of each fearful ejaculation.

The leash restrains, the cage still holds.
Say goodbye from your own grave:
I am home, oh master, the refrain.
Waves of brain chemicals electrify my veins.

The sense-memory arrives just in time for whatever miracle,
Whatever bejeweled astonishment I care to notice,
Whisking me away from the freedom that comes disguised as fear.
The wolf’s costume fools the little boy in me, and frightens.

Words like broken shards of ancient glass
Glint in the umber quiet of contemplation.
His vow of silence is now routinely broken.
An old Coke bottle, edges worn smooth by the rains of all these years.