Monthly Archives: August 2016

On Leaving

Leaving always leaving Always emigrating saying good`bye to walls where other pictures hung before we hung up ours and others will hang when we finish leaving Between coming going a log`book of hours without much annotation beyond the name of … Continue reading

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Indelible Ink

Getting older we are growing more comfortable within our own skin Where once we tried to hide our heritage as refugees born of the chaos of some conflict we now dance un`melted in the melting`pot where we’d wanted to meld … Continue reading

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Rainbow of Prodigality

My words like fallen petals of a summer garden litter the tableau of my life words unspoken out of sheer neglect of your love The remnants of the many things I felt the need to say tho you’d no need … Continue reading

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Shipwrecked Gardens

We have lived long We have seen much Little is what it was Less is what it is now  Much we do not know More we do not guess Lots we don’t believe Some we won’t deny We have lived … Continue reading

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Doing Peace

She prays for Peace in her morning prayers Quiet from her brawling brothers gathered at her Sunday supper table Harmony with her sullen husband brawling within himself inside his own brain ‘Why must we be so …’ she always seems … Continue reading

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Cocktail`Party

We gather in little circles each with its own alpha holding forth on a passion of the day sipping on cocktails pondering a way to slip outside watch stars She’s saying the high school really must build separate rest`rooms for … Continue reading

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The Trappist

The Trappist fasts from words plumbing in silence the width & breadth the height & depth of words’ texture left unspoken but in prayers the heart to heart dialogues with One who like the Trappist speaks nary a word lest … Continue reading

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Three Haiku

i. one cannot be gone before she has departed or return un`gone ii. the summer salmon follows the scent of the stones she has never seen iii. the sad mourning dove now alone at the feeder forgets how to coo … Continue reading

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The Poet’s Flagon

Daily the poet carries his flagon of water up the hill to his house so that in the heat of the day he’ll have water to drink and as he’s walking words like stones rattle around in his dry mouth … Continue reading

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Creating Worlds

Take me somewhere with your words spun like spiders’ webs over` night in places I might pass Catch me if you can by surprise with images woven in your heart Tell me of something makes your heart stop for sheer … Continue reading

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On Power

I thought I had it Instead it had me The ability to move others in the direction of the awakening light away from the night` mare of their grief Hope is but a gift A gift not my own a … Continue reading

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Remembering

I was just remembering      your ’53 Chevy coupe How on hot summer nights we’d drive out into the fields      until we found a canal      with irrigation water How we’d strip to our shorts and … Continue reading

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