Winter Solstice
Dawn after solstice
first pale pink light tells me sun
has not deserted
Stuck
I am always stuck
between “Hello” and “Goodbye”,
mispronouncing both
Snow News
News of snow can’t reach
the worms in the earth until
it melts and then delves
Afternoon Tea
In a cup of tea
I fall asleep, kept afloat
by a raft of dreams
No Way
No way to retrieve
a flake of snow, not quite like
all the rest, melted
Sudden Now
Now’s always sudden
for here it is, and then not –
whisper of regret
Pearl And Grey
Sky’s a patchwork quilt
of pearl and grey, whose restless
seams are never done
No Hurry
No hurry’s shut up
with the snail in its dark whorl,
slide on slimy foot
Bird
While I am reading
my mind flies away, a bird
seeking its own sky
Like A Wedge
Grief is like a wedge
that waits for sledge’s impact
to split me open
Oak Smoke
The smell of oak smoke
in winter sunlight tells me
I’m alive right now
Unruffled Ocean
The winter sky’s blue
as an unruffled ocean
free of continents
Whisper
Whisper of water
as flames lick a new oak log,
one hour from ashes
Stained Glass
Arms of winter oaks
carve blue sky into a maze
of stained glass windows
Skins Of Night
Grapes with skins of night
hold the fervors of sunlight
of a season past
Vanilla Moon
Setting in the west
vanilla moon’s reclining
on its bright backside
My Worries
All afternoon I
tried to sleep off just the fact
of all my worries
Scholar
I am a scholar
whose subject is ignorance,
my own, massive
Next
I’m next to nothing,
like lace chewed leaf or the frost
that morning will melt
Last Day
I watched the gold sun
set this last day of the year,
half moon at sky’s peak
Do Does
Do does carrying
next spring’s fawns have rough mornings
getting used to it?
Polite
How polite the splash
of small dark ducks taking off
from the blue of lake
New Year’s Eve
This year’s last evening –
when midnight comes we’ll drink just
as time’s drinking us
Memoriam
Sometimes I can read
my parents’ shapes in the clouds,
then wind scatters them
New Year’s Bloom
Next door the yellow
forsythia is blooming
in New Year’s moonlight
Old Hut
Something stirs in me
when I come on this old hut –
did I once live here?
Soft Clouds
Soft clouds floating in
from the west cover the face
of the waxing moon
Manhattan Wander
Manhattan wander
brings every face I’ve known
new before my eyes
Frisco Climb
San Francisco climb
takes me over a hill’s top
to another world
First Location
Cleveland’s sky of soot
keeps ashes before my eyes –
who were my forbears
Inland
Here, inland, right now,
I’ve a longing for the sea
and not a clue why
Meadow Knoll
On that meadow knoll
a lone oak flirts with lightning
that’s branded it once
Covey
White dog lifts covey
of mourning doves twittering
into the soft air
Listening
Listening is hard
and not work at all, no way
to trace how it blooms
Old Stump Cathedral
Old stump cathedral,
green moss spires, a vast dark vault,
insect worshippers
When I’m Not
I’m brushing with light
the facts of my life, so that
I am when I’m not
January Blossoms
This same cherry tree
blossoms each January,
pink flakes with white ones
January Twilight
Pink light slips from lips
of cold blue bottle of day,
as full ice moon climbs
Moon Pitch
From far far away
a full seamless moon curves through
half built hospital
Sudden Snow Squall
A sudden snow squall
last five minutes, then stops, gives way
to blue sky, gold sun
White Ice Full Moon
That white ice full moon
has been waiting forever
for a billiard cue
Fingers Of Cloud
Fingers of cloud stretch
across the sky, but can’t flex
to catch flying geese
Cold Dawn
Each paw a column,
white dog moves like a draft horse,
breathing plumes of steam
Porcupine
My questions are like
the quills of a porcupine,
helpless underneath
Fox’s Footprints
The fox’s footprints
cross the ice on an errand
known only to him
White Dog’s Happy
The white dog’s happy
in the cold with winter wind
roaring through the trees
Moods
In a single day
I travel so many moods
I confuse myself
Map Of Japan
Accidentally,
a crystal map of Japan
in stream’s ice islands
1 Mockingbird
In a world of white
a lone mockingbird unsure
what to sing or how
Fire
What’s the fire thinking
that it whispers so softly
in so many tongues?
Snow Laden
Dark snow laden clouds
are seeping in through the trees,
like smoke without fire
Blizzard
A blizzard wider
than half this continent with
not a single thought
Solitary
In a white snowfield,
a solitary oak, dark
as a lost eyebrow
White Table
On a white table
the white dog and I walk, two
tiny moving dots
Justice
Justice is longing
for simple freedom to be,
bloom without a pose
Salmon
Sunrise of salmon,
flesh of pink boned with bare oaks,
leaping up the sky
Reproachful
Always reproachful
my mother keeps her distance
even in dark death
Wind’s Broom
The sky has gone blue
again swept clean by wind’s broom,
its mindless impulse
Midwinter Peony
Peony’s pink buds,
rockets reaching to streak white
into spring’s blue sky
Strange Coin
Loss enriches me
as it impoverishes –
how strange is life’s coin!
Four Seasons
Past salt and pepper,
my beard has gone white as snow
through all four seasons
First
A crown of blue veins
the first woman I saw die
wore, slumping forward
Lake Ice
As the sun brings warmth,
lake ice begins to mutter
its age old complaint
Forgetting
In forgetting you.
I’ve come to know you better
than I ever dreamed
Sun-Struck
A fly buzzes by
and it and I are both one
and the same, sun-struck
Larger
My dead parents now
have no place to live but me,
larger than I thought
Like Smoke
Grief’s like smoke, writes what
fire has said, then goes to hide
in far-seeing sky
Old Picture
In the old picture,
my dad stands on autumn leaves –
now he’s under them
Snore
Music and sunlight,
Sunday morning stubbornness
of the white dog’s snore
Stirrings
Now, subtlest stirrings
of willow, weeping cherry,
new song in the hedge
Seventeen Year
Now, I’m waiting for
seventeen year cicadas’
weird resurrection
Acquaintance
Death’s an acquaintance
I made only after I
knew life, found I was
Pale Sky
Pale sky, paler blue,
a white moon rising in mist
at the door of night
Still
Will I remember
how I sat at twilight, still,
remembering you?
In The Wind
Spring is in the wind,
impatient, impetuous,
as spring has to be
All New
I remember not
a thing of spring -it’s all new
as it always is
Tongue Of Flame
Just one cardinal
in a bare dun and gold bush
speaks the tongue of flame
Bull Roar
Like some god struggling
to break free, the bull roar
of spring melting ice
Complete Spine
A deer’s complete spine,
hips still attached, is off white
in the melting snow
Taste Of Green
Before the last snow
has fallen, I plant spinach,
dream the taste of green
Spring Missiles
Skunk cabbages, green
tipped, purple horned, are rising
from their dark silos
River
Wind, river of air
that banks on nothing, my lips
twitch to set me free
First
Squirrels haven’t found
two pale purple crocuses,
the first of the spring
Wisps Of Cloud
Wisps of cloud make veils
for the moon’s shining face hung
up high in an oak