Winter 2007
First dawn of winter –
pale blue sky with rose margin –
a few mourning doves
Lost
Shadows in sunshine
all of those whom I have lost
shadows in sunshine
Blue Jay
Blue jay in the fog
as if the sky had escaped
from captivity
In Fog
Every water bird
in fog seems a part of dream
and the white dog, too
Coots
White dog disperses
coots – thunderous the applause
of rising lobed toes
Mapping
I’ve wandered so much
I’ve lost hope of mapping where
I’ve been, where I am
Dream Sea
I’m sleepy and want
to drift down into dream sea
to become a fish
Like Thirst
Sun slakes appetite
like thirst after grey days
and changes my mind
Where?
Do I hold my grief
or does my grief carry me?
Where are we going?
Squawking
Hidden in the mist
myriad geese are squawking –
then the beat of wings
Great Blue
Great blue heron makes
the ugliest squawk as he
launches into fog
Fifteen
I’m trying to guess
what’s the meaning of all this –
I’m fifteen again
Coiled
Red buds on green canes
of wild roses in winter –
spring is coiled to spring
Look Out
What I see when I
look out my windows depends
on what is inside
Think Less
I want to think less
but shadows are suggestive
even in half light
Oak Smoke
The smell of oak smoke
under a gray wintry sky –
I am burning, too
My Forest
Contradictions are
the pillars, beams of my house,
wood of my forest
Bowl Games
New Year’s Day football
at once leashes, unleashes
the savage in me
Finishing
Finishing a year,
starting anew – just the work
done by an instant
Arrowheads
Shot from morning’s bow,
arrowheads of geese over
the crest of the hill
A Black Stick
White dog wades river,
finds a black stick to chew on,
declares happiness
Murmuring
Murmuring burning
our old oak in the fireplace
gives tongues to lost years
Watching
I learned by watching
I could not say what I saw
but it became me
Witless
What’s witless wanders,
what has wits wonders – and these
two come together
Not Imitation
Not imitation,
but another dimension,
like silence fiction
Cold Far
The moon never speaks –
cold far mirror sees nothing –
I can’t stop dreaming
Sieck
The wholesale florist
is next door to the prison –
scents escape with ease
Lush
As evening comes down
I’m living in a lush hush –
a star shoots at me
Another Season
Another season’s
sun shines today, as if the spring
simply couldn’t wait
Deer
A line of white tails
quivering with each quick bound
across the black stream
Pebbles
Pebbles in the stream
become smoothed without knowing
anything at all
On The Wire
Squirrel on the wire
pauses to sniff snowy air,
then goes on crossing
Faster
My old friend’s dying
as I am too, only he’s
quicker than I am
Just This Once
Man is the flower
who blooms thinking, “Just this once
and never again”
Old Eyes
Old eyes, new wonder –
ducks dozing on the harbor
in January
Sex
Sex invented us,
not the other way around –
but we make it new
Skirts Of Ice
Rocks in skirts of ice
sit like Buddha in the lake
under winter sun
Artifact
Art is artifact,
unless it is fact, just as
rock is rock, sky, sky
Temples
Rotting in the ground,
my parents are preserved now
between my temples
My Parents
I mourn my parents
in each breath that fans the fire
of my extinction
Gray Rainy
Like gray rainy days
fatigue steals something away –
the inner sunlight
Mind’s Eye
Midwinter mind’s eye
sees the weeping cherry tree
in full pink blossom
Bursts Of Breath
The world in my mind
will die with me, save it live
in these bursts of breath
Waking
When the wake is gone,
then the vessel disappears –
ocean’s all that’s left
Dark Coots
Thousands of dark coots
still as print on the blue page
of this winter lake
Featureless
A featureless day
a gray sky in a gray mood –
purr, question mark cat
Sudden
Just before leap day
sudden scent of spring in the air –
I’m trying to bud
Each New day
Older each new day
my puzzlement is deeper,
light as a feather
Sly
Nothing to relate
save for the sly happenstance
of formless moments
Foggy Days
Understanding was
the great passion of my youth –
now I’m one with fog
Dead Wood
The wind goes howling
through the almost waking oaks
so dead wood spears fly
Alonzo King
I watch the dancers
and want to live twenty times,
no, ninety more times
Catapult
Warm day catapults
the first plum trees into bloom –
life and death, again
One More
It keeps happening –
I’m becoming someone else,
one more impostor
Love
I’m pursuing you
through all your hills and valleys
and I am tiny
Tree Frogs
Tree frogs are piping
before St. Patrick’s own day,
quite drunk on spring green
This Side
This side of sixty
early spring’s more delicate,
red buds, ravishing
Coming, Going
Each day’s one less day,
each new day is one more day –
I’m coming, going
Sheen Of Pearl
I can own nothing
and nothing can possess me –
sky the sheen of pearl