You...

Again today I thought of
you

In my mind's eye I saw
you

Thumb outstretched
hitching
All the way 'cross this
USA
You were wearing jeans
blue
Lean physique, eyes of
brown

Youth. God. Dreams.
Cascades.
Sierras.
High. Upon. Peaks.

I smiled thinking of
you

I imagined long
conversations

My heart swelled
wishing
That life had worked
differently

But it didn't

I never before imagined
that
We would be here
now

Yet, here we are

I will always love
you

Field in Autumn

Field of dirt and mowed green grass
Wooden fence squares it round
Flowing creek trickles past
Begone times beneath this ground

Chilly airs brush my cheeks
Swaying poplars play a tune
Wind pushes leaves off their anchors
Golden snowflakes falling down

White pines tower bend and bow
Mirroring their cousin poplars
Needles whoosh quickly falling
Bed of brown upon the loam

Trees now skeletons for a season
Blood flows slowly almost halts
Leaves and needles feed the soil
Awaiting life 'til warm winds blow


november, 2013

Web Weavers

Intricate design
Appears in morning
Having been spun
Throughout the night

Catching six-leggers
Tasty meals
Or wrap in silk
For later

Salutations
Announcing
Autumn
Just beyond the horizon

Turtle Eyes

Take me back
to a time
of
simplicity
if
ever such a time
existed

Floating
in salty fluid
warmth
rhythmic beat
sway
rock

Security
if it exists
is invisible
yet
sustains

Invisible
to the human
eye
but
maybe
another's eyes
can see

Who knows
what the aged
turtle
thinks
sees
feels

If a turtle
can feel

The planets hang
in invisible space
in their orbits'
lanes

There must be more
to
life
than meets
the
eye

The Mighty Mountain

Your words are wearisome
as they gyrate sanctimonium,
round and round they roll
like a steamroller
trying to level a mighty mountain.

The more you prate
the farther from you I flee,
to refresh my soul in the marrow
abiding deep within the forest
of the mighty mountain.

Why do you deface such beauty with dis-grace?
Why do you paint her spirit so petty?
Why do you trample her life-giving essence?
Why do you deem the mountain so small?

Your steam will run dry
and though it stripped a tiny morsel
laying bare a small hillside,
your levelled chafe will be erased
and the lush hillside will flourish again
upon the mighty mountain.

The wildwood will blossom,
its glorious grandeur and strength
displayed for those who have eyes to see,
shelter and sustanence reviving sojourners
upon the mighty mountain.

A bush-league major cannot raze
the pristine quintessence
that abides within,
that thrives upon,
that displays her glory,
with the mighty mountain.

october 21, 2oo7


Special thanks to Annie whose trust rests in the mightiest mountain.

*******

PN

Some days it burns
Some days it aches

Every day it lingers
Every day it weakens
Every day it exacts

A toll

Quarters
Tokens
Tolls
Accessing parkways to meander
Accessing highways to faster

But this toll
Accessing fatigue that drains
Accessing despair that pines for death

I just do not know
if I have what it takes
to pay this toll

My pouch approaches bankruptcy
Time for a loan

Sounds of Naught

Veneer
Shell
Mask

What lies beneath?

authenticity
artificiality
a hybrid

There once was a time
I believed
...in my redeemer
...in the true way
...in my healers
...in people

Where once was belief,
now are scars

Beneath the veneer, drywall rots
Inside the shell, hollow is
Under the mask, makeup cracks

I'll take the shell,
if I have to choose

At least it echoes

january 19, 2013