Monthly Archives: July 2017

Gone Fishing

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Gone Fishing

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A Sabbath Poem

“For we are fallen like trees, our peace Broken, and so we must Love where we cannot trust, Trust where we cannot know, And must await the wayward-coming grace That joins living and dead, Taking us where we would not … Continue reading

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The First Hour

Is there an hour finer than the first hour of the day? It comes a little later each morning this time of year Holds just a bite of autumn to come dew on the grass But its silences are full … Continue reading

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It’s the Light

It’s the light gives the river its turquoise color its rays shimmering on the riffles raised by the July breeze blowing inland from the sea It’s the breeze carries the river’s song in its currents above the city`noise the murmuring … Continue reading

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The Skagit Valley

The summer fields gleam in the afternoon light the panoply of greens variated each according to the species of its maturing crop The verdant valley bookended by the Cascades to the east & Sound to the west is fed by … Continue reading

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Sabbath Rain

Large rain`drops fall into the July dust making small explosions of grit into humid air leave tiny craters where they fall no sooner begun than done A summertime tease or the divine reminder fall will return grass go green again … Continue reading

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A Passage`Way

We looked for a passage` way to freedom some small opening in a granite wall through which to scramble To get free from someone is a lot easier than to be free to something The gate is locked from the … Continue reading

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El Lechero

His name is Juan For the past 8 years he has been milking cows on a Skagit Valley dairy farm arrives at the barn at 5 AM leaves again at 5 PM He rents a house Juan is married His … Continue reading

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On War

We Americans love a good war It seems foisting a little revolution in the global arena is part of our DNA The Big Stick gets big budget bucks as the Soft Voice goes begging in our budgeting We were born … Continue reading

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El Viejo

The old man sits in the shade of an old umbrella the colors faded by the same sun which has turned his skin mahogany brown carved creases of hard work He is too old now for stooping his joints all … Continue reading

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The Trailer Park

The trailers of field workers all trimly painted line up like colorful boxes on a shelf A little battered but Home Outside in tiny yards the flowers bloom on tomatoes & roses on daisies & cacti all growing together Cherries … Continue reading

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