Poetry

A Nice Bit of Work

If I sit on the porch and look out on the morning, It is the dust I first see on the window panes, Smudged here and there where my hand has brushed it And speckled where condensation has dried. I…
Poetry

Habitat

Miles and a moment’s ease flake away – the toddler shook us awake to ask When did Jesus paint our skin? Like memories of San Francisco we stayed a bit undusted, overlooking ourselves like silk-stranded ceiling corners. Bits of every…
Poetry

Whaling

The whale I lost in a book of water I look for with a pair of binoculars. I trawl for whale; I leave it verses. There is a great weight at the end of my line. It is a school.…
Poetry

The Dove

Here in a parking lot in February Where snow, piled through the winter, melting in thaw, Had sent a freshly pulsing tributary Across the asphalt like a silver claw, A dove landed, dipped, and drank, wary. Almost as swift in…
Poetry

Autumn Leaves

It seems the leaves know that they’re done with green of photosynthesis: loosing their stems from tendril grasp, they drop, but glide so far from tree you wouldn’t think that leaves so far had come from distant oak or birch…
Poetry

Resurrection

They lean over balconies, strain to hear through thick silence, dangerously close to the edge of sky and star, where time smudges into forever, they listen. It is there.  A breath – a great inhalation of life, a calm, rhythmic…