chrysanthemum...
not all flowers
were made for spring
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Meditation No. 1
poetry requires sunlight
poetry requires sunlight
& lots of walking, because
motion is also needed
to coax every word
David
for years I’ve prayed
God would grant me
an audience, see me
at the nursing home piano
(my good-deed gambit)
provide some big break
the empty chair
some mornings
still bleary and yawning
I stare at the empty chair
across the kitchen table
and ask God to appear
take my hands
take my words
untie them like balloons
pinch the narrow ends
let the hot, wet air
come wooshing out
until the blubbering
and screeching subside
foxes
my sister used to fear that a slender fox would scale our house creep through the window on a moonless night, pause– then pounce in the startled silence to gobble her up utterly false, of course foxes, orange and gorged walk right through the damn door brash, in broad daylight clutching an invitation claws retracted,... Continue Reading →
bobbing for apples
my daughter is describing India the contours of its shoreline and just like that I'm off to the backwaters of my brain searching for the capital to impress her there, forgotten facts float like waxy apples, resisting my efforts to retrieve them thrashing in the dark scattering this way & that until, triumphantly– New Delhi!... Continue Reading →
dog blessing
we avoid eye contact on the predawn sidewalk the stranger and me at a crossroads– sprinklers, too close have forced an impasse and his dog, lacking etiquette licks my hand, warm tongue a shock to my cold heart a blessing
The Big Bang
God shattered like a flawless vase crashing into the ground a trillion crystalline fragments piercing the empty, black heavens and seeding the soul of every living thing: creatures of the deep, birds of the air, the animals and man, who has grown gray with doubt, red with anger fashioning the shimmering shard of his heart... Continue Reading →
April
for Micetro it does not seem fair that Micetro should die in Spring as the boxwoods are greening and the driveway warming for an afternoon nap who will sit with me on these cool April evenings to gaze at the silent moon? I will miss his white face watching me from the black mulch his... Continue Reading →
Line & Landscape 