The Poetry of Mary Ellen Ugactz

On an Amtrak Train to Utica

Facing south
our bodies pulled northward
the past enlarges ­
passed trees join more trees
joining more trees
expanding tribes of leaftops
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
    as if painted

Moving pictures

What is to come
passes in time
gone from view too soon.

What are They

these luminous ornaments

these rubenesque drifters
that layer, like skin, this stratified sky

impartial to none, to above nor below
but do cry

they that sit upon heaven’s shelf

that cradle the daystar with their faith
and metamorphose into resplendent pillows

where retired halos lay

they that melt, blending smooth as cream into dusk

or that fluff, like whipped thick eggwhites

to be brushed in masses, between the amethyst, cadmium,

lapis splashes of eventide

will you decide?

Bach Played on Guitar

Slender ivory bones bow
weave a braid
of celestial sounds
on taut strings.

Period

Here is where I make the mark
where I put a halt
to all the words that came before

the rush of letters
that square dance their way
into formation          around the numerous
open spaces of the line

The strength it takes
to make this dot

and yet, what a mighty tiny blot
of ink.

Our December

This New York snow freezes cold
and all you do is pace
        and flay --
say whatever comes to tongue,
each gutteral flung
from your mouth
like blackened snow under-tire,
        I lean against a parked car
under-fire
afraid to blow a sigh
into this ice-picked wind
that might sling back
        and yet
this silence brings a death
worse than dying

I too have learned to fall
from heights
so quiet.

In the Looking Glass

You, vibrant like the sun
embracing me from behind
with eyes mirroring
        looks
that kiss.

Love Poem

And there was a time
And there was a time
And there was a time
I could get beyond this one line
and write of you.

© Mary Ellen Ugactz

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