Summer into Fall
Steven Federle
2011
Contents
Reverie 3
Decline of Day 3
A Prophecy 4
Vital 5
Simon and Garfunkel, 1969 6
We Sing 7
Canticle 8
Lazy 8
Fountain at San Damiano 9
Wooden Valley Vintage 10
Solace 12
The Old Man’s Lament 13
Double 14
Night and Day 14
Conscience 15
in the villages round Caesarea Philippi 16
A Warm Morning 17
Psalm for 9-11 (Dedicated to Fr. Mychal Judge) 18
Eye Trouble 19
The Eye Exam 20
Aubaude: Your Face 21
Vision 21
Diminished Vision 22
To an Unknown land 22
Morning
23
Summer into Fall
Reverie
Your breath
your voice
summer soft
lost in sleep
I dream
your whisper
rushing across
my bare
neck
your breath.
Decline of Day
Gentle breeze,
swaying trees
leaves
golden-green.
Imperfect sphere
sliding through day’s
perfect, blue air.
Ascends the moon
stark and silver
much too soon.
A Prophecy
The cities of England burn
with the rage of youth -
nothing to gain
and nothing to lose.
Blitzkrieg incinerates
shops and schools
give cover
as they rush through
gaping windows.
“so why not go get your own?
a penny’s worth, a purse,
a watch,
designer jeans
you know…..
loot”
“nearly one million school leavers
and graduates
out of work,
a generation lost
to worklessness.”
So sirens wail as batons flail
like v-bombs launched
at the nation’s children…
denied,
cut-back
forgotten
The story of our
strangled civilization
written on the back
of bloodied balance sheets
until new order prevails
in the cities of England, France,
America…
the few rich
and the many poor.
Vital
close to my heart
lungs contract
chest falls
fighting
to maintain my
windy passion
chest rises
blood requires
oxygen's fire
still alive
Simon and Garfunkel, 1969
Their music
still holds me.
two voices
swelling in the night
driving out the silence
with the sound
of sweet life.
Horror filled our lives then,
war was all around
and the very best among us
all were
shot down -
But we never lost hope
so long as we could hear
their music ringing clearly
as the darkness gathered near.
We Sing
Over bright fields
we fly.
Thin slips
of consciousness,
bounded by darkness,
we rise
on our song’s
golden glow
not knowing
how descends
the growing edge
of nothing.
Canticle
In the murmur of darkened trees,
I hear your voice,
I want to sing,
but grating words cannot contain
gusty night-wind’s
solemn praise.
In the hush of trembling leaf
hosannas rise, rush
home to Thee.
Lazy
Sweet summer breeze
heavy ripe vines
wine pouring,
time slowly
seaward
flowing.
I write
like there's
nothing left
in my half-
empty glass
but now the wine's gone....
day's too warm
and much too
long.
Fountain at San Damiano
Splashing like diamonds
water fills the bowl
spills to cool shallows
to darting larvae,
fetal tadpole.
A river falls
drawing grace
to darker pools
where pensive koi
deep waters
peruse.
Wooden Valley Vintage
swollen grapes
extracted flames
sweet blood shed
fruit entombed
stacked casks
fragrant gloom.
nightfall
grey limbs twisting
through emerald shade
reaching at last,
clear blue day!
fern overflowing,
with living lace
red rose embracing
impassioned grace.
the sun’s final flames
high leaves emblaze,
soft night claims
fast fading day.
Solace
Tears,
dark fears
like wind-
lashed leaves,
like faithful doves
who softly grieve ,
you cry.
Though I don’t
understand
why life fills you
with such fright,
please believe
that I’ll always be there
to help you get
through your darkest
night.
The Old Man’s Lament
Child-sun blazes
through grey morning fog
his passion overpowers
night’s sluggish slog
‘till bright noon’s afire
with his effervescent love,
but it’s all the same, it’s
all the same.
Morning, noon, and night
may embrace our little lives,
but it’s always the same.
The ancient moon rises
in the fast-fading east.
Bloody sun dies, failed day retreats,
but it’s all the same, it’s all
the same.
Morning, noon, and night
may consume our little lives
but it’s always the same, all
the same.
Double
Crouching, dangerous.
waving the bat
over his glinting helmet,
he waits,
scanning the field
for any weakness,
any hole
to fill
with his power.
When the coiled arm pulls back
and releases blinding fire
down the narrow lane,
he swings.
The high arc,
bright spot in the dark,
decays and strikes
just within
right field’s highest
limit.
Resting at last,
poised, hands on hips
he surveys the game
from a whole, new
point-of-
view.
Night and Day
Day and night the west
winds rise to the golden
edge, the threshold of sight.
I rise and fall and begin again
‘til at last I decline
into darkness of same.
Hot summer draws out spare
winter’s chill; my days flow
over, my life over-fills
‘til will forsaken, naked and
chaste, at last I gaze
on your pure, living face.
Conscience
Deep in the dark
of the wind-thrashed tree
a rasping voice calls to me,
demanding I see
what I cannot see.
The tree's dark core
deep shade obscures,
and try as I might,
I'm blinded by night
descending.
Yet still it calls, insistent and
shrill, when sudden silence
my aching heart fills
with cold
apprehension.
Oh Lord, whom have I
offended?
in the villages round Caesarea Philippi
Oh, we are
a faithless generation!
I saw the lying spirits
ensnare my son
and throw him into the mud, fouling
his boy's mind with fetid waters,
unleashing to fiery panic
his gibbering tongue,
but everyone shrugged and said,
"nothing can be done."
A faithless man, I prayed for faith
and He entered the fray,
commanding to silence
Satan's dubious claims,
with His mighty prayer
sending hell-ward howling
all our false and golden
gods,
and gave me back
my son!
A Warm Morning
Morning hush
Heat builds,
leaves glitter.
Into pure silver
dissolves the shade.
Birds call
winging it
to high, dark places,
any eve
where tattered night
may hide
seeking retreat
from day's clear,
searing eye.
Psalm for 9-11 (Dedicated to Fr. Mychal Judge)
I hear your soft voice
In the hushed evening breeze
as gentle wind fills
these tall, murmuring trees.
For you're never too far;
your soft breath I can feel.
My soul stirs with faith
that no anger can steal.
Through the cold, empty night
you fill my dark soul.
Your brilliant light breaks
death's ancient, harsh hold.
In the morning I'll hear
your clear voice proclaim
my life you've restored,
bitter tears wiped away.
Eye Trouble
Close by,
flashes
fill the night
of my peripheral vision,
what's nearly there
just above my shoulder,
over my straining
brow.
I can see in a blink
the paparazzi
ducking into dark alleys
patiently waiting for me to emerge
smiling into innocent lamplight
to trap me, like Princess Di,
with their
flash.
The Eye Exam
I Struggle.
The white dropper
looms like a bird's beak
a little too close
to my blinking eyes,
but finally the drops splash
over my eyelashes
my nose and cheeks.
First a sting
and then I feel
nothing.
Soon the quiet room
becomes immense and bright.
I gaze in wonder
as my hands grow
transparent,
throbbing veins turn to
blue rivers
coursing through pale ravines
of webbed bone.
Vision grows deep
with dilation.
The doctor peers
looking past the
murky vitreous,
right down to
my optic nerve,
and I wonder what she sees.
A small hole in my retina,
just to the left
yes! that's where
lightning flashed before,
where
now lies blindness…
my own circle
of night.
Aubaude: Your Face
Starry lace wraps
your sleeping face.
With passion
I watch over you
like the moon
drifting
to secret
rendezvous,
to the importunate sun,
who, with ardent speed,
rises in-
to the fiery
east!
Vision
In the raw air of crystal dawn
the sun devours waning night
with dragon-song,
and rises to cerulean heights
to the vaulting domes
of eternal sight.
Diminished Vision
Dark lines dance
on the edge
of distortion,
Slight things
not really there
dart just beyond
my searching
stare
when suddenly,
sidelong glancing,
I'm filled with
fear.
To an Unknown land
To an unknown land
o’re the distant sea
crowding me in, it
carries me.
Through night and day
I'm rushed along.
I want to stay though
I can't stay long.
Compelled to go,
I linger with you;
Though I want to remain,
harsh time whispers, "no."
Morning
when the sky is still black
and stars glitter
like there's no
tomorrow,
the overblown moon
luxuriant
above seaborne fog...
this is the time
of faith
when birds,
startled by dawn's
first spark,
raise sharp beaks
and sing
the first song of
morning.