Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Canvas 742



Canvas 742

August 24, 2016




Morning dew, enough to run


Morning dew, enough to run, patterns form in summer dust,
cling to leaves, then dripping off — as will, one day,
our noble causes and conspiracies,
I trust.



Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Canvas 741



Canvas 741

August 23, 2016




Is this where


Is this a window, or a mirror?

Are these flowers, or thoughts?

Is this grass, or your hair?

And the path? and the dew?

Oh, where, where do we go, from here?



Monday, August 22, 2016

Canvas 740



Canvas 740

August 22, 2016




love’s sweet something


the rut of your thinking, the rough road,
the weary pleasure in the familiar sights and sounds,

and then the joy of a sudden storm
that settles it all to ground —

or it might be the laugh of a child,
just as they lower you,

just as wild seed takes root
when love’s sweet something is found.



Sunday, August 21, 2016

Moonlight on fig leaves


Moonlight on fig leaves, an owl calling from somewhere
high up in the neighbor’s fir trees, coffee perking
in the old family pot, and everything you
thought, left behind, left behind,
for another time,
or not.



Friday, August 19, 2016

And it is good


A rock on a hill in a distant time. A lightning strike.
A boy on a bike. A dream, if you like. A place for his heart.
A place for her hands. A leaf on a pond.
A love without end.



Wednesday, August 17, 2016