La Lune se Lève

At first shyly, quietly
it lets slip a golden
sliver above the trees.

Seeing the sun retreat,
it continues to rise,
gracefully lifting itself aloft.

Reflecting the final rays of sunset,
it is a swollen pumpkin,
sporting a mottled jack-o-lantern face.

As the sky darkens, the vibrant
colors fade, replaced by a glowing orb,
climbing higher in the sky.

Now shining like a search light,
it casts a shimmering, silver path
across the water, leading lovers by the hand.

Photo and Poem © 2016 DM Shepherd

Saturdays with Pop

My Mother liked to go shopping,
my sister, delighted to go with,
to me it was pain worse than death,
so I spent Saturdays with Pop.

Sometimes we went fishing
in a rowboat on the lake.
It didn’t matter what we caught,
just being there was the gift.

There were bugs that danced
atop the water, dragonflies
flitting to and fro, tackle box
full of lures, worms looped onto hooks.

Sandwiches wrapped in paper
were what we had for lunch.
Sun dappled afternoons led to
naps in the bow of the boat.

If it rained we’d take cover
in a shack up onshore,
waited for the showers to stop,
then we’d fish some more.

I learned so much on those
Saturdays, far more than
I can tell. It was our time spent
together, that meant the most to me.


© 2016 DM Shepherd

Insomnia

Is it late at night
or early in the morning?
When sleep evades,
it's hard to tell.

Fog blankets the street,
a neon sign flickers,
blues and static from a cheap radio
leak through the door of an all night cafe.

The usual collection of phantoms
and specters line the counter,
nursing a cup of joe
or glass of flat ale.

It's always the same at this grey hour,
somewhere between gaiety and sorrow,
souls waiting to be saved
by dawn's first light.

The Concert

The old gang back together,
gathered at our stomping grounds,
outside the stage door,
where once an empty alley stood,
now a modern high-rise towers.

All those faces, still familiar,
yet worn, with years of laughter,
a few shed tears, 
and wisdom gained
from life lived, fullest.

Some are missing, to be sure,
their absence felt,
claimed by illness or misadventure,
when forty years have passed,
Fate takes its toll.

But when the lights go up,
the band begins to play,
like tonic, the rhythm pulses 
through our veins,
the years melt away.

This goes to show,
though time never slows,
and youth so slyly
slips away,
you're never too old
to Rock and Roll!

© 2016 D M Shepherd

Relativity of Time

Tick.

Tick.

Apart,

time

crawls.

TickTickTickTickTick.
Together,
it flies.

© 2016 DM Shepherd

Before and After

Oh, can you remember those days
Before?
In memory they glow.
Virtually purring withwarmth and harmony.
Before
the moment that
marked the point
when all the days
that followed,
became
After.






Copyright 2016 DM Shepherd