Thursday, May 5, 2022

a grave poem

quick drive
no more than three minutes
quick walk
down to her mother's grave

she goes everyday after school
everyday? everyday.

sometime its a short visit
pluck out a few weeds
a "love you mom"
and home

other times
its a lingering lawn chair sit
a one way graveside monologue
a wave of guilt
when the seeping cold, 
mosquitoes, or a steady drizzle
sends her away

    my brother is dead
    he's resting under a stone lamb
    west of town
    I've never gone
         maybe it is time

Wednesday, May 4, 2022

dawn poem

light blue morn
time for temple dog walk
slight glimmering rain

to the east a dayspring sun
cutting low over the fields
to the west double rainbow
high in the forest sky

night poem

cold night air
coming in steady
cross temple breeze
rattling doors
waking tired monks

Tuesday, May 3, 2022

Waits - a quick response

rain and window rattling wind
best to keep sleeping
the Waits records silently spins

 - The Square Corner got me thinking. 

red-tailed hawk

The scene:
mated couple of ditch water ducks
flock of geese picking remnant corn
a clutch of turkey hens

The action:

from far above  - a red-tailed hawk
diving down
last microsecond correction
soars past these brother birds
plucks a fat field mouse 
in a quick talon take

Monday, May 2, 2022

requiem for my forest

I don't want to talk about it
it is a hard heavy loss

 - the forest is gone

torn up -  manicured
slopped to drain away the swamp

trails, trees, the little puddle pond
that would freeze for winter skates

today I sit
look out over pools, hot tubs
garage full of beamers
a kid staring back at me
through a black metal fence

Sunday, May 1, 2022

trees fall

I'm in the forest

another tree has fallen
crash smashed
through ancient fence
splintering century old cedar rails

stop  - turn back down the trail
out behind the shed
stack of forgotten rails
carry them back to the forest
shore up what is broken