Tuesday, June 16, 2015

BZ Niditch- Three Poems


Those mornings
waiting for a line of bass
or any fish to appear
losing no time
on the tall grass
by the dock and deck
admiring a black swan's neck
and our moving eyes
stop to look at our lines
in a row boat or kayak
over the motionless shore
on the Atlantic ocean waters
to catch up to our poetry
and complimentary love life
with a fearless conscience
embracing an opening wave
by a school of salmon
in a frenzy 
of too much cool memory
already tasting
the filet of sole
cooked along the sea.


To locate my part
along the bare stage
in a windowless studio
to find his lines
standing in a circle
for his helplessness
murmuring in gestures
before we go on stage
not forgetting
Beckett's words
or nuance
just to have a chance
to take in a part
in summer stock
we survive
the clowning reasons
for dress rehearsals
and to live
in another's soul
in the outside park's theater 
is to be once again alive 
expanding my portfolio
once more.


Ski season is over
by the birches branch
in Mount Snow Vermont
the borderline wind wants
to make us cold
when we are told 
of the disordered avalanche
from the hilly ranges
near the emboldened rescue
here everyone is a friend
in the whitened wind
there are no strangers
in the craggy bends
that we know.

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