Saturday, June 29, 2013

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

The snowflake melted


The snowflake melted
on her tongue

spring to summer
just like this

first the dance
then the kiss



Monday, June 24, 2013

A lifetime later


A lifetime later
the poet who conceived

the universe as pipe-smoke
or shepherd song

adds echo to the measure
of his line†

wonders who might
be calling

settles

on his mind


“Perspective,” October 28, 2009, Poems, Slightly Used.



Sunday, June 23, 2013

Coffee


The second cup
sings the first

the first
the universe

soft abed
hair about arrayed

untamed in love
of everything


Saturday, June 22, 2013

Here and gone


The essence of our kind
is love that grows as knows the mind

here and gone and sung
in perfect time



Friday, June 21, 2013

Solstice


The longest day
is the shortest

somewhere
else

a ripe plum
fallen in decay

half hidden
by dead leaves

and the promises
they made

and grace
as grave

as the smile
on your face

outlives
them both



Thursday, June 20, 2013

Tender maple early riser


Tender maple
early riser with unruly hair

summer one or three thousand years ago
boy seeks water seeks stone

arrow leaf arrow root
up down

lost in song
of self

long gone

now



Wednesday, June 19, 2013

English garden


That sudden downpour
yesterday afternoon

Shakespeare
at his most eloquent

finds the deepest root

bright steam rising
from every roof



Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Monday, June 17, 2013

Mettle


Tempered by its purpose,
mind outgrows the legend of itself,

learns to love, loves to learn,
by heart.



Sunday, June 16, 2013

Friday, June 14, 2013

Imagine


Imagine the brightest drop of dew
is the child of your mind
warmed by the sun.

Imagine them
gone

and you the page
they are written upon.



Thursday, June 13, 2013

Present ancient


The easy print of a child’s hand
preserved in plaster

held in the present
ancient version

of his own



sweet

mind



Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Old cat’s yowl


Old cat’s yowl

kettle
calls

father sings in a dream


broom to step
eyes still wet

from listening



Saturday, June 8, 2013

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

And on his deathbed said


And on his deathbed said
drifting into song

paused to know we heard it well
dove calling to no avail

first to sing
last to go



Monday, June 3, 2013

A book and boy


A book and boy in his lap, a farmer tells
his grandson how a big combine cuts the wheat,
and loaves of fresh-baked bread come out
the other end. They compare hands.

The mind — well, the mind is really just a pitchfork
full of loose hay, and frogs, and owls,
and wagon-rides, with some starlight thrown in,

and you grind it into flour somehow,
add some rain, and the sun turns it into bread.

There’s a big brick oven up there —
between the ears, that is.

And a heaven
down here.

The order doesn’t matter as much
as the tool at hand.



Sunday, June 2, 2013

Death is going back


Death is going back
to see the swing your father built so well

the new owners leave it exactly
where it is.



Saturday, June 1, 2013

Child, in a field, in a frame


Child, in a field, in a frame,

looks up at the sound of his name.

A moment ago,
he would have known it.

That’s me. But who’s calling?

So instead he explains
what he means.

His grandson is listening
to sparrow-song.