Longview – and other hues of former self empowerment
-For Anton

The wanton westward kiss
plush with freckle faced rapture;

to recapture the rainstorm
where standing, as though rooted,
as though the landing were the
sanding of dreamscapes and city
blocks filled up with mid-afternoon
parade route and, piano whistling -

the wanton
hue of dowager-daughters;

captured moments
of us in Longview,
where the lonely
few accumulate
inside the sharp sound
of symphony – waiting
for you; blue eyed for you;

and in the night
walking barefoot down
hotel hallways hunting
for ice, or throwing fits into
the dog-eared grass shards, noise
from a party next door, ocean
lengths dividing the drudgery,
the digressing self-possessing
panic of empty handed you
watching me from the corner;

or laughter, captured
in those lost years of
Longview, where the rain
pelted us like so many bars,
like the regalia;

the self
standing – faraway.