Saturday, June 29, 2013

The Third of July

Pursuing happiness
I move to the back yard
and in the shade of my umbrella
in the soft, warm breeze,
I sit very still
and hear
the mockingbird call.

I see his tail-feathers
thrust skyward,
waving in avian semaphore,
enticing his mate
to love in the swaying tree,

while stretched on the fragrant grass,
alert ears pointed skyward,
my cat hears everything
and,finding happiness,
closes her eyes.

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Simon and Garfunkel, 1969

Their music
still holds me.

two voices
swelling in the night
driving out the silence
with the sound
of sweet life.

Horror filled our lives then,
war was all around
and the very best  among us
all were
shot down -

But we never lost hope
so long as we could hear
their music ringing clearly
as the darkness gathered near.

Saturday, June 22, 2013


Image: “Anna’s Hummingbird” by James Audubon

hummingbirds dance

falling and rising
high to the top
of the apple tree,

to where I cannot reach.

Saturday, June 15, 2013

and fell the crane

painting, September 2001 by Hung Liu

rising high
godlike I gazed
from where the crane flies
unconcerned, over
the placid waters of
the harbor of
the world,

when, driven to madness
it pierced
my throat.

I burst
and burned
and to earth

and fell
the crane.

Friday, June 14, 2013

day's heat

The day’s heat
enfolds me,

green and gold-
en lightly-slipping

rays pour through thin

in my rough-hewn

and make crosses
bright in
the grass;

but the fog broods,
rising white
as death.

will be


Thursday, June 13, 2013


a bird peers down from
my neighbor’s roof, waiting for
my silence to fall.

where there were five trees
are now three; survivors morn,
buzz-saw’s anger quenched.

softly clear water
falls; brown to green rising, coaxed
into life again.

Monday, June 10, 2013

Wooden Valley Vintage

swollen grapes
extracted flame

fresh blood shed
sweet fruit entombed

stacked casks
fragrant gloom.

Sunday, June 9, 2013


Sweet summer breeze 
heavy ripe vines
wine pouring, 
time slowly

I write 
like there's 
nothing left 
in my half-
empty glass.

but now the wine's gone....
day's too warm 
and much too 

Sunday, June 2, 2013

A Moment

She starts and stares
into high ceiling shadows,
alarmed by what? A sound?
Slight movement, breeze wafting
past the open door?

I look,
but poor human eyes see nothing
beyond smudged spectacles.

So I stroke her flowing fur
And reassured, she shuts sentient eyes,
trusting feline sense, and purrs.

Saturday, June 1, 2013

sometimes it hurts too much

sometimes it hurts too much,

strangling tears,
struggling breath

slowly steals
stealthy death.

did the merciful needle hurt you much?

when sleep filled your eyes,
and your thick blood ceased,
from the red pain you were
suddenly released!

but grey dull memory
for me.