Bordered by the sun,
green grasses flow
Their sea of spikes
seems to know the air
as a long time companion,

they lean like friends;
they grow the same,
they’ve died together
And after all
enjoy sharing roots
many many years
harboring fireflies at night
and being tickled by the rain
But this may be a lie

because life is a dimension
and within our animal house
our eyes glow the same
and stretch in the black
that knows no name
that knows no end
but echoes like diamonds
like tingling feet falling asleep
placed boxy and heavy
until small toes are

when the world stops
shifting in relaxed eyes
we are soil
best for growth,
part of everything,
shadows, feet, home
clay and sand
bowls and cups and grasses
sparkle in dew and
crisp ice in snow
But this may be a lie

who depends on fingers like mine
and paper and water-mill minds
simple pulleys above the well
this may be our world
this may be our mind
this may be mine


rain soaked window

the light coming from the rain soaked window
was soft
as the patting on the frame
the old metal frame angling only glass
and bits of water
that keep falling
falling to the window
so full of open air
welcomed slow rivers
down its heart
just the same
as the trees
slowly losing color
from the ridges
and gently rocking in bowing wind
rain, rain
and wavy window
sparkles in the palm of the room
wish on peace
pass by here
transparent and ignited
in the soft light
of a soft day

rain (without an umbrella)

Before I forget the feeling of a thunderstorm,
I will re-live it:

water, warm and curious
a first kiss
on my arm and eyelid
my cheek bone and slide
fingertip stream down my neck;

and if you are
without an umbrella,
still inside, quiet soul, water-bucket heart
you can piece the falling sky
frame by frame
and hold the white
around rain boots and lowered heads:
all looking down and skipping cracks

to the delicious sip of the sound
of innumerable splashes landing
or rattling the tin can
of monkey-chain summer life
too long in need of release

just for now

Just for now
I remind myself,
I sit alone again,
eyes peering out
of the dirty window
clammy with humid sky
barely breathing in
through the screen
and red/tan brick alcoves
Just for now
we bear the heat
while the bugs wheel
in molten light
red ashes in the night
Just for now
I walk in tune
with engines and
slumped shoulders, drooping heads
and people trying
really trying
to be seen
when they should have
faces bright with laughter
uncaught in themselves
thoughts streaming out of their ears
and eyes and nose,
mouth with corners tucked in cheeks
none of them hungry
none of them sad,
not a trace of hostility
in their deep deep minds


Today I lost myself in the piano:
the dark wood drew me in
and sat me down
in a blindfold of sound.

I was captured by the keys:
the fortress of black and whites
made me play their song
and they pulled me right out:
right from the middle of me
and left me shaking
we conjured such sounds,
giving everything its release,
the sweet sunlight, the family, the picture frame

my foot on the pedal
my arms in the abrasive strings
my face warm with melody
and my fingers
they feel nothing;
they remember nothing

but Kitten’s purr
reminding me to calm down
and return to myself.

stone pavillion

I realized;

looking down at the soft rectangle stones

each time my heel felt the ground

through my worn black flip flops

thin, foamy and squirmy

that although this walkway was not natural

and there was no way everything

could be lush green forest

moss, mist, and deer eyes

that these stones were placed here;

someone in the past put them there

expecting people to walk over them,

never knowing how many

would appreciate his work in the sun,

the precise 90 degree angles and plowed earth:

yet his work has held many feet

unknowingly grateful feet

unknowingly enamored feet

in the space his placed rocks did create

sequel to falling: drifting

When my thin tears
dried crusty
salt crystals on my jaw
in the eerie dawn silhouette
I saw you
back arched
across the sky
blue, green, white
as the sun whispered
a secret
from behind the horizon
so I spread my arms
out to my fingertips
and lifted my legs
and opened my toes
and just drifted,
riding the wind;
I was never alone.


like the rain
back to them
into myself
hair in my face
in my mouth
whistles by my ears
wet by rain
and I fall
nobody will find me
in the perplexity
of my mind
and trapped

deep forest waiting rain

The sky holds its rain

while wind sifts the boughs,

shrouded in dark feathers

you cry to me your song

of words thought to be forgotten;

with your crown of vines

twisted in your melancholy nest,

you permeate my thoughts

with deep forest scent

and quiet, heavy clouds

bearing me closer to your wings,

finding myself nearer to your voice,

yet peaceful in a moment of sorrow