Poetry

You moved into the blue as we watched, shorebound. Speaking words of meaning, the pastor dipped you back. Engulfed for a moment, then with a rush you rose.

Have you ever desired a carwash for the soul rushed right up to those retractable doors ...

Back in 1825, David Dougas packed your kin on a ship to London, where sales of their seeds alone repaid the cost of his expedition.

From the very top of Grey Butte, the peaks and canyons of Yosemite flash around us as they do.

If ever a day so deceitful, so promising in its delicate sunshine, you’d stow all the wools and flannels, change out storms for screens ...

I am waiting for the traffic light to change, luck too; for someone to answer my phone call ...

Take heart--they say the darkest hour gives birth to dawn ...

The mystics say to dig, hammer the cloud, day and night.

In the heat of summer as afternoon wears on as octogenarians care for their flower gardens ...