Moments - A Poem (From "Two of Cups: A NY Poet in Galway")

Each moment
suspended

eternity is
thought

in your eyes
I find being

Life is
never secure

walking the
precipice

we come alone
we go alone

and maybe
one day

we feel
less so

until that too
goes ....

By Mary E. Lohan

Times Square Commute, NYC (2015) - A Poem

8 am
"Yesterday" on violin
plays

commuters, tourists,
the homeless,

we walk through
tunnels
some shuffle,
meander,

you would think
there are only two
directions
in which to walk

yet, some pause,
creating no direction --
lingering

here in the belly
of the city
mindless,

we push on
eager to reach
some place

mindless,
we cut ahead
squeeze into
closing doors --

leaving the music
behind.

By Mary E. Lohan

Note: Susan Keser is the violinist who I refer to. I've linked to one of her videos above, and here as well. 

Suburban Mornings - A Poem (from "Speaking to the Darkness")

New Jersey, USA

The first stirs
of morning
arrive as shrills,
whistles, tweets,
against a backdrop
of dewy, dark nothingness --
so blankety soft and still,
I can hear my own breath.

But as the world illuminates
from below,
burly groans emerge,
the whirls of man --
mowers, weeders,
saws and blowers,
their racket so loud
windows are mere
membranes now.

I must endure the
hours of manicuring,
primping,
the shaping of Nature,
into a green "couture"
landscape,
to be appreciated
by the few who
saunter or drive by.

By Mary E. Lohan

On an Amtrak Train to Utica - Poem (from "Four Folded Corners)

Facing south
our bodies pulled northward
the past enlarges

passed trees join more trees
joining more trees
expanding tribes of leaf-tops
flaming
or glowing gold

as we slide alongside the silver, rippling river
bark, stone, sun, clouds

a stubby, railway bridge
a boat,
its sails, tall and starched,
sits motionless
as if painted

moving pictures --
what is to come
passes in time
gone from view too soon.

By Mary E. Lohan

Note: About Utica