“Moon rises; Day subsides.

I ride the tide, a child

of sixty-four to tour

the world of endless night,

a sight revered through eyes

shut tight, fearful of light.”

 

        Depression Without Death

[Kate]

What an odd poem

to suspend the title ’til the end!

What an awful chasm to fathom 

with such awareness of despair

to battle at such an age!

I wage it’s not your’s.

Where did you find it?

[Kevin]

 

Stuck in a small slit

in between the closet wall

behind the door jam.

 

It is absolutely bad 

and is tragically sad 

 

to be alert, clear 

and aware of your despair 

that pecks at your heart 

 

with piercing penetrations 

jolting your nerves to revolt. 

 

Spiritual pain 

to reign over physical 

angst ranks very high. 

 

Ice nor fire aspire 

to such true hellish torture.

[Kate]

 

Wow! You got that quick. 

I would bet you met with something 

catastrophic.

[Kevin]

 

Life is tough enough 

for gentle souls trolled as prey, 

ensnared, then scared stiff.

[Kate]

 

Who was she?

[Kevin]

 

A girl I had to defend.

Did you comprehend the dance?

[Kate]

 

It was fun

but I lost my sticks.

[Kevin]

 

But you left with two. 

In a few days you’ll get calls 

to review your views 

 

on the evening’s events spent 

with the intent to welcome 

 

new comers owning 

Joe’s Honor Coin to confer 

any first concerns. 

 

You, too, have two calls to make 

for the same sake to take back 

 

your’s and surrender 

these that you’ve guarded for now. 

Anyhow you’re fine. 

 

Call these numbers. Remember

to meet in public spaces. 

 

If you feel nervous 

it’s my pleasure to provide 

a convenient ride.

[Kate]

 

Are you guys setting up

blind dates I’ll hate?

[Marlo]

 

Kate’s brown eyes twinkled 

and her smile was wide then grew 

into a sprite’s lite 

 

laughter laced with ornery 

character graced with delight.

 

The night was joyous

with superfluous kindness

of playful good cheer.

 

Kevin looked to glimpse his Bree 

inconsequently in vain. 

 

She would not be there. 

He saw Shannon with William 

but not his fair Bree. 

 

When all had been said and done 

Johnathan’s party parted 

 

the rigorous fun 

of singing and tossing sticks 

to quick catch the pass 

 

that time and time again flew 

all new names around the room 

 

to zoom to and fro, 

back and forth, shuffling names 

to be gained briefly 

 

only to be lost again 

in the turbulent tossing 

 

of rhythmic voices 

singing harmoniously 

their choice to be free. 

 

Kate and Kevin were to meet 

at Pete’s for breakfast at eight 

 

to elucidate 

the rejuvenated state 

of rested sound minds.

[Kate]

 

Thanks for breakfast. 

I must confess 

the success of last night. 

I had a really fine time.

[Kevin]

 

No issue at all.

It’s a very small matter

to scatter kindness.

[Marlo]

 

Parting in the parking lot 

at the start of a new day 

 

with the sun shining, 

rising in the vast blue sky, 

two shy clouds lingered. 

 

She hugged gingerly, sweetly. 

He, awkwardly, slightly balked. 

 

He was off to meet 

Johnathan to shoot some skeet. 

Oddly, it would seem 

 

to engage in such a sport 

with such a kind, refined man. 

 

Still, it must be done

regardless of its nature.

The encounter stands.

[Johnathan]

 

It’s good to see you once more, 

Kevin. Did you score new folks 

 

to invoke your zeal 

that might provoke new insights 

of your life and theirs? 

[Kevin]

 

Odd you should ask; here’s this stick 

heralding artistic vibes. 

 

Would Crystal be home? 

The Fates honed their skills to kill 

two tasks with one stick.

[Johnthan]

 

I laugh at the irony.

We shoot. We eat; then we meet

[Kevin]

 

Sweet, but I did not 

think of you as a hunter, 

as Death’s harbinger. 

[Johnathan]

 

Good fellow you bellow words 

whimsically so nicely.

 

I farm crops and keep 

a heap of pigs, cows, chickens 

and figs for the pot. 

 

Ain’t no vegetarian. 

I’m humanitarian. 

[Marlo]

 

A hearty laugh rose 

from both souls from toes to nose. 

Silly is healthy.

 

A moderate walk ensues 

to pursue a thick hedgerow 

 

with cedar and pines 

and some fine, small, plush bushes 

for resting birds’ nests. 

 

Once traversed through well rehearsed 

circuitous trails well veiled 

 

through nonlinear, 

familiar, random moves marked 

with blaze orange tape, 

 

the pair escaped to a field 

yielding enough space to shoot.

 

The field was fresh cut 

close to the ground, more lite brown 

than deep vibrant green. 

[Johnathan]

 

This is our skeet zone owned 

by stewards to keep it safe. 

 

We will use steel shot 

to stop lead-poisoning game 

or tame animals. 

 

We rake for the clay debris 

regularly, thoroughly. 

 

The industrial 

spring-loaded thrower is there 

by the spare clay disks.

[Marlo]

 

Skeets soared; guns roared; life endured.

Johnathan threw six then switched.

 

Kevin threw his six

and switched to fix the pattern

that turned measured time.

[Johnathan]

 

Have you visited Donald

since Twisting’s fate hobbled you

 

to view your current

life so badly you spent time

enshrined in sublime

 

literary martyrdom.

I’m grateful that you prevailed

 

and did not succumb

to such foolishness undone

by Hasting’s appeal.

[Kevin]

 

You and Hastings are a pair 

who dare to provoke deranged 

 

minds only slightly 

constrained to restrain anger 

toward idiocy. 

 

But you, Johnathan, should care 

that I’m armed in my despair. 

[Johnathan]

 

You’re not malicious. 

You did not kill in cold blood. 

Lethal self-defense 

 

comes with great expense for souls 

who know Life’s immense value 

 

and its fragile state. 

Hate warps the spirit’s vision 

for the best assets 

 

to combat the worst attacks 

against naive innocence. 

 

Hunger’s persistence 

now requests our presence 

at Noonday’s table

 

to enable ingestion 

of refreshments with verbal 

 

quests to explore more 

of Life’s commonality 

or diversity.