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


on his mind

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

Sunday, June 23, 2013


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


The longest day
is the shortest


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

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


Wednesday, June 19, 2013

English garden

That sudden downpour
yesterday afternoon

at his most eloquent

finds the deepest root

bright steam rising
from every roof

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Monday, June 17, 2013


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

Imagine them

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



Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Old cat’s yowl

Old cat’s yowl


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.