Second Firmament
When I meet darkness
inside me, I look for stars,
second firmament
Wild Turkeys
Wild turkeys rising,
tail fans spread, the same color
as the leaves falling
October Clover
October clover,
as pale purple as ever,
lonely in the grass
Moore
Henry Moore lifted
the shapes of rock from nature,
added attachment
New Split Oak
Scent of new split oak,
green rhapsody of summers
long past, still present
Autumn Mists
Autumn mists, white sheets
with nothing written on them,
pierced by bright bird calls
Saffron Threads
On my hands and knees
I place thin orange saffron threads
on a dry oak leaf
Chalk Clouds
Chalk clouds on blue sky
changing characters wind-worked
no way to read them
Last Traces
Smooth on my fingers,
these ashes, the last traces
of a great white oak
Flowers
My parents, planted now
where they’ll never bloom, are still
flowers in my mind
Red Streamer
Cardinal in flight,
red streamer unfurled over
tawny fall meadow
Can’t Get Used
I can’t get used, Dad,
to your death, not a problem
that you struggle with
Meerschaum
Two years dead and still
you’re puffing white smoke clouds from
Meerschaum in my mind
Flotilla
Flotilla of leaves
floating down the stream – what is
this life that leads me?
Golden
Autumn twilight weaves
golden forest tapestry
under snow claw moon
Incandescent
Weeping cherry’s turned
incandescent hues of gold,
all tears forgotten
Sudden
Sudden sun’s splendor,
tenderness of mid-autumn,
lone gold leaf floats down
Seasoning
Red leaves amid brown
fall has its own seasoning
waiting for first frost
16th Anniversary
Sixteen years ago –
an instant – I’m someone else –
a red tumbling leaf
Snout Is Still
White dog’s snout is still,
ears twitch, interrogating
fall wind for the news
Bare Snag
That bare snag was once
more complicated, also
far less beautiful
Old Thoughts
I’m wandering through
the dark closets of my mind,
trying on old thoughts
Trembling
Not to understand,
but to live like morning dew
trembling in the light
Big Oak Leaves
Oak leaves big as boats
carpet these deep woodland paths –
my feet crunch sunlight
Fable
Anemones – two
and only two, last white blooms
in fable of fall
Not Just Facts
Away from the facts
to something fiercer, the facts
that are not just facts
Buck Bounds
The white of deer’s tail
compels my eye as the buck
bounds swiftly away
Nothing At All
Following a scent,
white dog runs circles where we
see nothing at all
Linger
Leaves seem to linger
as they float down a soft breeze
this sunny Sunday
Only Fair
It seems only fair
that I should subvert this form
as it subverts me
Rustle
The sum of whispers,
rustle of squirrels’ quick feet
in dry autumn leaves
Forgotten Wings
Leaves fall one by one,
birds that have forgotten wings,
land and then lie still
Office
A doctor wonders –
“Am I minister of life
or death, or of both?
Two Quiet Ducks
No deer and the sun
in my eyes by the blue lake
and two quiet ducks
Flocking
Robins are flocking
below flame red bittersweet,
ready to fly south
Fear
Jagged as lightning,
fear rips through me, showing what
I don’t want to see
Lush Flesh
Wonder of the word
is it can show how lush flesh
becomes less and more
Not To Think
Help me not to think,
but let the swift river flow,
carrying me off
Old Oak
Burning all day long,
old oak keeps me company
as it becomes ash
One By Scarlet One
Downy woodpecker
picks off bittersweet berries
one by scarlet one
Gray Hands
Marsh reeds with gray hands
upraised waiting for the wind
to pose its questions
Loud Mallard
Loud mallard splashes
brown water in which the sun
is hiding, silver
Ah, Woodpecker
Ah, woodpecker, how
I love your beak’s precision –
rat-a-tat, no doubt
Ink Brush
I can’t remember
why I picked up this ink brush,
how to put it down
Migration
An orderly V
of Canadian geese, high,
keeping the old ways
With Folded Wings
Hawk, with folded wings,
sits high in an oak watching
a wind-stirred meadow
C. N.
Death, unadorned, walks
more and more, expressionless,
the ways of my life
Sixteen
The weight increases,
you were lost so long ago,
sixteen years, today
Gout Bites
Gout bites my ankle,
but still I walk autumn’s woods,
hear geese in the clouds
Bolder
Older and older
I get bolder and bolder –
less of me to lose
I, Mouse
Hawk’s cry is ugly,
announces menace I, mouse,
feel in my belly
Like A Cloud
Our daughter’s sleeping,
floating like a cloud above
where her parents wake
North Wind
North wind is a broom
that sweeps the sky clean, brings cold
and the eyes of stars
Nurse
I nurse my sorrow
as if it were a baby
destined to grow up
Quartet
A quartet of ducks
bobbing where the river turns
a sunlit shoulder
Native Integral
Twisting wild cherry
is a native integral
in December woods
Armada
Armada of geese
attended by reflections
in the quiet lake
Slug’s Progress
Lines my life traces
shiny as a slug’s progress
on a sweet green leaf
Gray In Burgundy
Gray in burgundy,
my head in hydrangeas
riches in late fall
Liberty
To think and to think
and then somehow stop thinking,
empty this prison
Gorge
Life seems unchanging
until it slips all at once
into a wild gorge
Fox Trots Left
We’ve piled the oak leaves
into a brown mountain the fox
trots left to avoid
Bone
Dog barks at her bone,
as if it could still get up,
walk over to her
Boundless Blue
The sky’s boundless blue
holds wisps of wandering cloud
and my own two eyes
Question Mark
Lever for prying
being open and scythe, too,
for harvesting light
Quiet Rings
With what ease the rain
wakes quiet rings on the lake
which folds them back in
At Play
I make my small things
suggest what they can not say –
universe at play
Siamese Twins
The book of yearning,
the book of learning – twins, stuck
with a single head
Rosetta Stone
Staggering loss can
be a Rosetta Stone both
for sun and shadow
Self-Same Sun
The oak that’s burning
is about my father’s age,
made from self-same sun
Recollecting
In recollecting
my lost hopes there’s more pleasure
than pain – very strange
No Two
No two chunks of oak
are the same, so I listen
carefully to each
Stars
To find stars by which
to navigate me is all
I’ve ever wanted
December 14
Suddenly it’s cold –
Orion still goes naked
as I bundle up
Fragile And Fragrant
Virtue is fragile
and fragrant as pine needles
scattered on the ground
My Way
I’m in my own way
on my own way – I obscure
where I’m going, why
Parliament
In the autumn thorns
a parliament of sparrows
meets to debate…what?
Rags
Memory sells rags
and calls them rainbows and silk,
forgets how flesh hurts
Vanity
Vanity’s a sea
that has no far shore, no wind
to carry past me
Room And Board
Your lives continue
in me, a hotel that can’t
charge for room and board
Places I’ve Been
The places I’ve been
have all lost their names and map’s
only mystery
Horror
Horror of belief
is it imposes design
where blankness breathes free