Monday, March 20, 2017

Urban Square

Wayne Thiebaud, Urban Square, 1980, Oil on canvas, Oakland Museum

steel over streets
vaulting rivers fly
to the hard, blue sky
sharper than
ink, than
bright city

(22 Oct. 2013)

Thursday, March 16, 2017

In the Cold

In the cold
there's no room
for old fears; tears
that freeze on your
cheeks are

Lying under narrow eves
on porch or sidewalk grate
waiting for sleep 
or death
to ease your pain, 

you cannot remember
how you got this way;

for thought, like water, 
congeals to solid rock,
and you can't 
even pray.

(12 Dec 2012)

Author's Note: Estimates of the numbers of homeless in the US today range from 200,000 to 500,000, many of whom are unsheltered children.  This is a national disgrace.  Update 3/2017: President Trump's new budget inhumanely slashes poverty programs while increasing military spending.  He thinks this will make us more safe.


В холодное

В холодное
здесь нет места
за старые страхи, слезы
что мораторий на ваш

Лежа под узким кануны
на крыльце или тротуаре решетку
ожидания для сна
или смерть
чтобы облегчить вашу боль,

Вы не можете вспомнить
как вы получили таким образом;

для размышлений, как вода,
застывает в твердые породы,
и вы не можете
даже молиться.


Автор отмечает,
Оценки числа бездомных в диапазоне сегодня США от200000 до 500000, многие из которых являютсянезащищенных детей. Это национальный позор.

Friday, March 10, 2017

Deep in Grey

Deep in grey
we wait
as black night drops
and completely.

At the end of our day, 
hope is measured
one careful procedure
at a time.

Night is not kind in winter.

Too early It comes,
and stays too long,

brings fear,
red eyes and stinging tears.

lit by red numbers
night measures our lives
one pulse at a time,
in dim blue bars
gleaming in the distant ceiling.

Clasping hands
In the fading day’s light 
we pray
for one more 


(28 Oct 2010)

Thursday, March 9, 2017

Rockville Road

soft sweep
of gentle hills
fallow fields
for black seed
worked earth
in late rain
to songs of
as every

(20 July 2013)

Tuesday, March 7, 2017

Spring Storm

Duck Creek Lightning Night, 2012, oil on linen
V...Vaughn (used by permission)

night drops suddenly
birds, nervous, slip into eves,
silenced; a stone drops.

peace be on this stream.
sliding song of rain soaked creek,
rising moon, refreshed.

(28 April 2014)