Bluefin TunaBitter friend, pour me the sound of mountainsclimbing under the waves like spreading gills.These fingers liftTo the ones left behindTo the ones silentTo the ones hunted and cradledup and out of the grass green watersin gentle nets: I say, you do not surprise meknocking the waves and wood with sullen flank.You are not unfamiliar, in your blue slip,in this dust of droplets, saltingfirst the dry dock, then the ice.
When the kettle explodesWhen the kettle explodes into shrill white steam, I will not be there.When you look up,the cup will notbe in my hand, the swirling teaspoonnot in my other. The world will shatter, without me,on the edge of a machine recording.I will be your dial tone.
When sadness leavesSadness left me, turnedand closed the doorand hasn't stopped by since."You have no right to me," it said."Just give me one reason," it said."And we'll be together," it said.Dried prunes in the bowl on the tablehad nothing to say. The cat,even less."How dare you," I said."You never put the toilet seat down," I said."I'm better off without you here," I said.And hoping sadness would get held upin a Market Street bazaar, or robbery in progress,I crossed its name out in my address book,and crying, tried to come up with a reason.
Bigearswebbed wings aflutterfurry flyer zips, zigs, zagscatching bugs and vibes
The Forecast is Freedom umbrellas raisedagainst a rain of teargas — heroes every one
Impromptu Astronomy a pierced receiptcasts a shadow on my shirt eclipse watching
The MoonThe moon in the sky,It shines the path in the night,Travel safely, Child
moving awayfraying on sidewalkleaves reach out small arms, trembleoutwearing edges
Bedtime singing lullabieshe holds onto my collar — again?
The Grand Circle - Grizzly CreekLeaving Denver we climbed up into the Rocky Mountains, slowed by our capricious car. Through deep tunnel and vaulted vale we crossed the continental divide. Then down, down, endlessly down as our ears ached with the pressure change. For my young son it was all a bit too much, so we turned off at a rest stop to stretch our legs and relax. We ended up near Grizzly Creek on the Colorado River, an oasis of calm in our hectic day. With our magpie guide we walked a winding trail down to the river. There we sat for a long spell, drinking in the view. Then, as if reading my very thought, my son knelt down and selected a pebble to throw into the river. We stayed there for quite a while soaking up the sun, taking great pleasure in the search for beautiful stones to return to this glorious river. on a river bankhe picks through mud with care for just the right stone —leaning out, fearlessly farhe casts i
063. Cold EmbraceThe silent fall of snowflakesCrowns the mountains' lavender summits,Wrapping them in cold embrace.
One Bright FeatherLast upon the old stone ledgeLights the autumn leaf –One bright featherFrom phoenix wings.