Monthly Archives: November 2013


IMG_1290sometimes at the top of the hill

there are stories that float up

from each of those lights

signaling their revolutions

pulling me into memories of the over there

or imaginary dramas

like elderly couples planning each other’s assisted suicide

or teenagers learning the ways of rooftop exits

into rebellion in empty spaces between lights

down there life is being made

and death continues to shouldertap


there are sounds

that are all new but not new

each siren a grim familiar chorus

each distant shout echoing

a thousand others heard before

each thousand thousand sounds a looping track

played back randomly

played back frequently enough for familiarity

so that each sound resonates comfortably

like you’ve heard them before

just not quite like this


the light is never the same

tonight low clouds dance the moon

revealing glimpses of white mystery

behind gray scarves fanned like marilyn

luminescent overcast makes cameos of twisted limbs

and mosscaught raindrops glow like mithril in moonlight

as shadows shift into almost

wearing sheer nothings that you can never quite see through



David Trudel   ©  2013

Photo by the author




Filed under Poetry


beautiful you are

but I don’t dwell on that

or sing praises

I just drink in

tall glasses


I document places

with you just outside each frame

hinting through margins

and mattes

into images of preternatural beauty


like memories of you then

transposed against today’s moment

when the light hits

like a sucker punch

leaving me breathless



waiting for your touch


for more than today

and less than tomorrow






David Trudel     ©  2013




Filed under Poetry


patience is a lonely virtue

worn thin as hand me downs

in a too large family

in a too old house

but patience is what’s required

for trust to develop

for the comfort of familiarity

waiting for acceptance

like letting birds settle

while you wait for the path to open

while you wait for the way forward

patience is a lonely virtue

requiring surreptitious repetition

gentling alarms with quiet strokes

patience is persistent non-pursuit

patience is acceptance of illusions

allowing mirages to be photo-shopped into tomorrow

waiting for that calm moment

that waits like a forest clearing 

that waits like a perfect moment

worthy of an eternity of frustration

patience is the appreciation of a possibility

and the acceptance of its loss

patience is letting now catch up with tomorrow

while the wind whistles

and cries

patience is learning to ignore the immediate

knowing that some prizes are worth the wait

David Trudel    ©  2013

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end of the world

if it was the end of the world

would you hold my hand

and pull me into you

if it was the end of the world

would you kiss me

like the fate of eternity depended on

our lips

if it was the end of the world

would you hold my head in your hands

while we hold our gazes

while we hold the end off

for a moment longer

until the end of the world

becomes inconsequential

until the end of the world

is you


holding on

to each other

until the end of the world

is discovery

until the end of the world

no longer matters


David Trudel      ©   2013

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against the current

traveling against the current

against tide travelers

gliding up and out on slick ribbons

pulled into dark forests

where green marries black


here, a stream shakes life into the air

with each slap of battered fighters

broaching destinies while gulls consider

their next course


traveling against clocks

traveling elliptically

even traveling when we arrive

until it’s all fluid

sliding tumbled into tomorrow

yesterdays lie scattered on banks and riverbottoms


trees, not quite full frontal

wear mossy leggings and use ferns as pasties

trailing natty beards weirdly mist woven

ferns dictating understories into vanishing ravines

reading secret landscapes from sacred scores


traveling fast slowly

against currents

against granite

against predation

into natural inclusion

into natural solutions

traveling against the current



David Trudel     ©  2013



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haiku – November 2

wind revealed

dancing leaves swirl

others stay attached



David Trudel  ©  2013

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Filed under Haiku