Category Archives: Uncategorized

turkey-heavy morning—
across the road, I know
someone’s awake because
the television is flickering
Over here, candles
do their own flickering
sunshine comes and goes
on the walls, greening
the deep graceful green
of the rescue fern.
Your cat stretches, sighs,
turns in her half sleep
on the warm radiator cover.
Come in—here
on this busiest shopping day of the year,
let’s rest…. Rest
not in remembering what we had
or imagining what we’ll acquire
to bring out that elusive and fleeting
Flavor of Joy. Rest.
Here it is,
come round again. Peace
amid strife. Calm
in the middle of craze. This moment
this small sunny oasis in the hours
of this, our given day.

all of us, strivers
training for something—
the big race or the
cook-off, 100% compliance or
garden club best of show,
weight-lifting contest or
quarterly projected sales.

We are all in training. The gift is
we each decide what it is
we’re training for
Today. May we train to be joy-filled
Let us begin with the snow
how it falls
how it sculptures the ground

Today two new recruits arrive
at our local training ground
beautiful black skinned boys
from Florida. They arrive stunned
by travel and by so much whiteness
in skin and snow surrounding them.

Today, joy is handing them passwords
to our school, all the access codes I have
to wide-open rooms where they may
Choose for themselves
what exactly they want to train for
Today. Let us begin with the snow
how it falls
how it sculptures the ground

the purple asters
in their clay pots
surprised by winter

the flowers and I
had time to sense it
Change in the air.
Instead, we spent our days
faces turned to the sun,
humming.

Who knows? Maybe
unprepared
and startled awake,
Maybe this way is best
for me and the flowers

Here, a new proposal for measuring distance
rather than as the crow flies
the new measure is
as the cat naps. Like so:

as the cat naps
on the warm radiator
the room lowers itself into
quiet like an unsteady old
person lowers into a chair
(slowly, with relief upon arrival)

The distances are all within.
silence may terrify you
with the space it leaves wide open
for loneliness, regrets, wishful thinking.
As the cat naps,
the distance you must travel to
the horizon you wish to touch
is the moment, this moment
when the same quiet room
at the same hour and day
becomes sunlight and water
for a cold thirsty soul
as the cat yawns and circles
settles into a new and cozy curl
you arrive and drink deep
This quiet this refuge
And how far? And how long to get there?
Oh, not far. Oh, only as long
as the cat’s nap

Embellish is her talent.
Others call it exaggeration or endless gossiping, this thing she does with stories about everyone she knows and everything they do.
Embellish.
If she’d been a seamstress, this would be yards of lace, seed pearls, decorative rows of tiny unnecessary buttons. If a farrier, her horses would flourish sleek oiled hooves and manes braided with silken jewel-tone ribbons. A baker and we’d all be feasting on lattice crusted pies and cakes coated in bright ganache shells topped with spun sugar sculptures.
But she is not these things. She is an almost ordinary somebody with a busy mind and empty hours who only needs a willing audience.
Embellish is the gift the godmothers whispered at her christening and oh it must be said—she’s made the most of the gift she was granted.

glides the highway verge
passes all the humans
in their traffic jammed shells
he is reassured again
about the superiority
of wings over wheels

November’s first snow—
field of leftover pumpkins
wearing snow white hats

Fluorescent light works.
Also, budget meetings.
Sorrow, sleeplessness, sickness
are unreliable. They can go
either way—turn you mute or
turn on a torrent of words
like turning on the kitchen tap.
One never-fail tip I’ve discovered—
Buy a new car. Fret over
the price, the color, the inevitable
dents or scratches. Repeat. Listen
to radio news of wildfires in the west
while you fret and drive.
Juxtaposition with those who lost
every single thing in their house
including their house
is guaranteed to stop a poem.
Continue like this until it’s time
to stop the car somewhere. Anywhere.
If you carry yourself along,
when you arrive
wherever you arrive
you’ll discover—
no poems there, either.

gathered on today’s walk
this bowl of supple leaves in bright shades

this bowl of supple leaves in bright shades
tomorrow’s crumbled leaf dust

tomorrow’s crumbled leaf dust
tonight’s centerpiece glowing in candlelight

last week, walking to the library
in the rain
an angel
sped by on a dirt bike
muddy legs
gold tipped wings
fluttered in the wind
I waved as she or he went by
but who knows
if the angel could see me
buried as I was behind
thick air, books, and worries
Especially the worries.
I read once that carrying them
all day leaves a trail behind,
a residue of gray dust
which dampens the light
and makes you invisible
to all things holy or magical