More, One More
I claim I’ll go
full of curiosity.
But darling we both know
I always want one more
kiss, another drag
Category / Poetry
Not Yet
How many summer afternoons found us
at this lakeshore, unable to account
for our fate? Dear whirligig,
you want what is only possible
with stillness. We have yet to learn the names
Continue reading… "Not Yet"The Last Time I Saw You
What have we lost
to know
a brother, a husband
a friend
was needed elsewhere,
Chewuch Creek 1996
she cuts her feet on bones of the river
crimson pools on long glacial slide
of moss crusted boulders tipped
on broken pieces of themselves
teal ochre bronze bright bed of jewels
Kobo Daishi Names Cut-Cloth Temple
The slump and twist, the sag and pooling,
the edges of bone that steam reveals.
So this is what I will look like at eighty.
And perhaps they are thinking: so this is what
Crossing the Andes in Early Evening
A saint swings frantically,
flinging her blessings across the bus.
I try to ask the woman next to me,
about the loaves she carries
and she thinks I want to buy them all.
Continue reading… "Crossing the Andes in Early Evening"Near Perpetua
The creek here does not fail at the height of summer.
It’s an echo chamber, undersong
of winter’s orchestral weight, when violin sections
of fern-frond bowed rain’s legato.
High Summer
You move through light
like water through a throat
accomplice to every living curve
as though at any moment
you might encounter god
Stimulus
Soon I was coveting again: latest
Kenmore refrigerator, a larger
hot tub, fresh paper for the powder room.
All night I wanted upgrades: stove, glasses,
The Lazy Cartographer’s Journey
If you never learn them, facts cease to be
true, flatten like the sea before Aristotle,
confining you to local travel except for the few
who have always known the world is round