Jackie's Ladder

Something older for today. Weather report for Wendy: Overcast and cool. No need for air conditioning. A slight breeze, perfect for walking downtown, along the waterfront, during lunch.

The photo is just a randon snpshot of the lupins that invade Maine, just there to be pretty, although it's not a great shot. I'll figure all this stuff out oneday.

Jackie’s Ladder



Years in Turkey and Greece
come to me in poems on postcards:
Searches of hallucinations and backstreets,
snatches of silks and canvas, hashish and champagne.
The texture rich but the colors all running
together

You are running,
looking over your shoulder in anticipation,
praying for the sleep rat to take away
the exhaustion and pain;
all in a letter of fragments written in London,
mailed a month later from Istanbul.

You are traveling like an unattached
electron looking for a home base. The stop
in L. A. was hardly a cameo before you fled.
I know there were stars there, the love you sought,
shining, electric. So close you could walk
around them, but to touch was the pain
always at your heels.

You are my link to magic;
your lips breath my vicarious breath.
I wait the years between your three A.M.
phone calls from somewhere high
on you ladder and share with you a small,
solid, piece of the Earth.
SP