present

rebuked
with one word - "absent"
and one stern look

I was wandering
a lonely path
thick and grown in
with new ferns
and old fallen trees
deep in the forest
with my old
temple dog
present


the tired monk

New Temple Dog

new temple dog
wag spins
scatters kibbles
across the floor

chases toys
whirling through
papers
of half penned poems

the old temple dog
looks on
ambles back to bed

Light in the Forest

there is light out there
coming through
the new spring leaves

a lost meadow
a deer filled glade
a huge beaver pond stocked
with bass - - -?

the tired monk pushes through
a gnarly hemlock stand

stumbles
into desolation

reads the signs
 Private Road
 No Trespassing
 Luxury Estate Homes

a spring walk

striding deeper
down a grown in path
by the dry creek bed

something moves
out in the clearing
just a corner eye glimpse
move in a little closer
peer through
the new birch leaves

a raccoon playing
with her spring kits

tired fox

tired fox
flicking through
the early morning shadows

bone weary
from moonlit stalking
yet sated
on mallard flesh

nestled
down deep
in her musty den
as the sun
breaks the ridge

talk

I don't
want to
talk
about it.

let me think
on the lost lyrics
spinning out
of crackling vinyl

no words
just strumming
what you feel
chords
hammered pulled
dashed
with vibrating notes

Early Spring Forest Poem

thick icy drip falls
  plunges
from white pine heights
gaining velocity

clips a frozen leaf
sending it spinning
moving like a mouse
fooling a young
pouncing fox


the Tired Monk