First Snow

they can’t reach the water 
in their arms. Not all that

symbolic I suppose
            it’s a kind 

of disastrous ash to 
the crickets or

someone in old-fashioned 
clothes holding 

a bag of flour that 
blew up in their face

Snow comes off in
bits of sun, takes 

the dumbfounded 
leaves with it and 

now it's   boney 
      arms and winter
if they like it or not.

I knew this lady,
she'd go out and shake

the branches with a 
pole when the snow was

just new.

Goodbye, Youth

Singing notes burst on 
rattled strings

rust a little in 
grownup breath   and disappear 

just like that

He sits with the gravestones
        not really disrespectful
just plays a young song  to them

The ones under him say where 
they are with the 
stones
(part of this world as much as anyone)

The young man keeps making
those singing notes 

drill 
   down
    down 

       into the soil

and another is walking 
inside the fall leaves
They whisper on her life

wind blows tears into and out of her eyes
make her a little and 

a lot older

the ones under the graveyard
well, were they after love from 
the whole world or  just a handful?

is it alright to love the dead?

Young Mr. Graves puts  down 
his guitar 
some years  later  he 
picks it up again

His little ones don't know about the
playing in the graveyard

they just don’t know about that stuff

he sings to them and his voice isn't so good
so maybe they'll know
he's singing for only them

           And the stones move and
fall off mountains
Sometimes you hear them sing:

                "Goodbye, Youth"
 "Goodbye, Youth"
(and, boy, some of them got really good voices)

but that noisy kid over there'll
burn up  before the world 
 gets him down

He won't hardly see the world
from up there
and it hurts my eyes to look at him

So I sing, "Goodbye, Youth"