Slack skin and arthritic hands.
These are the raddled lands
where at the dusk of time
an old man lies,
his head to the wall,
his feet to the door.
I will rest here forever more,
facing the dusty window sill
and the yellow lights outside
running a bent line up the hill until
I find a way to survive.
There is a silence to tell.
Wednesday, October 14, 2015
Monday, August 31, 2015
Summer, Alive
A jack rabbit, startled,
flies at the barbed-wire fence,
over the dense weeds,
towards the sun, which is rising in the East.
A boar picks acorns
one hundred yards away.
A gray cat stalks by,
feral and stray.
flies at the barbed-wire fence,
over the dense weeds,
towards the sun, which is rising in the East.
A boar picks acorns
one hundred yards away.
A gray cat stalks by,
feral and stray.
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
Stonyford 2015
Coyote yelp:
a throat-caught call
from hills
half a mile East.
Man as beast:
pelts clipped to a wire.
Water and ash
in a barrel four feet deep.
Soap hung on a fence
keeps the sheep safe.
Cows low, upset --
they are separated from their calves. Seek
not so much to be understood
as to understand.
Here is a sandstone mortar and pestle
used to grind acorns in the past.
a throat-caught call
from hills
half a mile East.
Man as beast:
pelts clipped to a wire.
Water and ash
in a barrel four feet deep.
Soap hung on a fence
keeps the sheep safe.
Cows low, upset --
they are separated from their calves. Seek
not so much to be understood
as to understand.
Here is a sandstone mortar and pestle
used to grind acorns in the past.
Sunday, April 12, 2015
Fling
Daisies in May
faces bob and sway.
Yellow, white:
he loves me,
he loves me not.
Kiss the spot
under your chin,
then run away.
faces bob and sway.
Yellow, white:
he loves me,
he loves me not.
Kiss the spot
under your chin,
then run away.
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Controlled Burn
Prescribed by the forestry,
hundreds of square acres
smolder.
__________The smoke
rises and drifts to the South.
Sweat on his brow,
a man bows to the ditch
before him.
_____Flames, orange and wild,
lick the brush.
__________He feels a rush
of blood to his head.
His partner stares,
inferno-led,
_____fixed on a dead
squirrel not five yards
away.
_____The men stay
at a temporary camp.
Tonight they will rest,
but for now the sun
sparks in the sky,
_____a white-hot
__________arc lamp.
Black scraps run up --
_____ashes of burnt prayers --
__________to heaven.
hundreds of square acres
smolder.
__________The smoke
rises and drifts to the South.
Sweat on his brow,
a man bows to the ditch
before him.
_____Flames, orange and wild,
lick the brush.
__________He feels a rush
of blood to his head.
His partner stares,
inferno-led,
_____fixed on a dead
squirrel not five yards
away.
_____The men stay
at a temporary camp.
Tonight they will rest,
but for now the sun
sparks in the sky,
_____a white-hot
__________arc lamp.
Black scraps run up --
_____ashes of burnt prayers --
__________to heaven.
Sunday, March 22, 2015
Lavender, Rosemary, et Alia (a Garden Poem)
Abutting the kitchen
_____a witch's dream
Thyme and parsley
_____Carnations, red
smell of spiced cream
Snip
_____Fold
__________Clean rag
Gold saffron alone
grows elsewhere. Seed
Dill in a windless
_____corner
Chives pay their rent every day:
faithful boarders
Cilantro for salsa --
delicioso
_____Garlic also
summons bees
__________Rosemary
(memory's friend)
_____remind us this year
what sprouts again
_____a witch's dream
Thyme and parsley
_____Carnations, red
smell of spiced cream
Snip
_____Fold
__________Clean rag
Gold saffron alone
grows elsewhere. Seed
Dill in a windless
_____corner
Chives pay their rent every day:
faithful boarders
Cilantro for salsa --
delicioso
_____Garlic also
summons bees
__________Rosemary
(memory's friend)
_____remind us this year
what sprouts again
Commute
Yawning beyond into haze,
the bay from I-80 seems
littered with islands.
The water is still.
We filled the tank
at Dunnigan. Past the windmills
near Vallejo
light streams in
blinding the driver and me.
Hills, green, roll by.
We cut off a a red Corvette
driven by some heavyset guy --
his car has tail fins
and a popped trunk.
By the time the sun has sunk
before us, to the West
we are approaching
the exit. It took an hour.
Our best time yet.
the bay from I-80 seems
littered with islands.
The water is still.
We filled the tank
at Dunnigan. Past the windmills
near Vallejo
light streams in
blinding the driver and me.
Hills, green, roll by.
We cut off a a red Corvette
driven by some heavyset guy --
his car has tail fins
and a popped trunk.
By the time the sun has sunk
before us, to the West
we are approaching
the exit. It took an hour.
Our best time yet.
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