Lake Flower
here morning opens
as a lotus petal
all at once
in all directions
under the kind pressure
of twilight
a translucent
blue topaz feeling
disappearing into
an ancient softness
Poetry: Stormy Night
Stormy Night
There is a loneliness to hail drops
on a tin-roofed cabin.
The woods and flowers and secrets of
mountains are lonely.
So are the trails, ponds, and bridges;
the vanished sources looking for a beginning.
Dripping drops a million years in the making.
Falling asleep in the wounded soil of dreams.
Poetry: Altostratus
Altostratus
Pressure is in our breath.
Winds in the north veer to the right,
while those to the south veer to the left,
as the light emitted from the sun, turns our
windmills and guides our sailboats.
Just as an airplane stays aloft due to
differing air densities on each side of its wings,
and the ocean of air moves like oceans do.
Evaporating clouds. Air bubbles in the sea.
And didn’t you know that sunsets are merely
filtered rays of red passing through the atmosphere?
Poetry: A Mountain Prayer
A Mountain Prayer
I kneel so that I may remember this
without words, this mountain without
a wasted breath speaks and I want to
remember the way I felt listened to.
So I close my eyes and breathe in the aroma
I smell peeled apple and peppermint, moss
and dried roses, orange blossom water in my throat
and I taste the words of the mountain, a few drops
that make me swirl in wild silence
the mountain is calm, always
in the way it notices the offerings of mortals
it stands untouched, in my arms
as a hay field holds the Sun’s amber light.
Poetry: The Way Archimedes Proved Ideas
The Way Archimedes Proved Ideas
If all the pencils and pens
in the world disappeared,
I would write your name
in the ashes on the hearth.
If all the paper burned
into smoke and computers
went suddenly dark,
I would scribble it,
in the bath, in the suds
of my oily skin.
If the damp sands washed
away with the tide,
leaving the beach alone,
I would go to the floor of
my basement and draw it
in the dust.
Poetry: Never Judge
Never Judge
a bourbon
by the memories
of childhood
judge it by the way
it makes you remember
being a child
never wasting
any chance
Poetry: Afterwards
Afterwards
the husband was
relaxed, as the wife
held him in the half
finished silence
where he hoped
to tell her everything
the way dry oak leaves
fall quietly in the lake
Poetry: Ausable
Ausable
the master alchemists
of Benares
would do no better
the torrent in this river
lets go of me
like an invisible spell
Poetry: Stropharia semiglobata
Stropharia semiglobata
I awoke to see
pupils floating
in balls of light
In that shade
enchanted by
the music of
Time missed,
they hovered
in the darkness.
Like a guru
meditating.
Strange creatures
haunting every room
of my brain. Oval and
mushroom shaped.
Like the red and white
knapsack of a dwarf, so
mischievous and charming.
As quaint and extraterrestrial
as an English fairy tale.
Poetry: I Know You Know
I Know You Know
I accepted your apology
implicitly, but the aftertaste
of those emails stuck in
between my teeth like a
kernel of popcorn. I tried to
pick it out, you know I did.
Yet, it remains below the
crevice of the gums, a half
buried fleck of fake gold.