a glimpse

a light year
glimpse of Orion
tucked inside
a sweep of morning clouds
and swaying white pine boughs

street prayer fragment

these streets are full of
anti-heroes
rich only in stories

may these streets fill
with good salty saints

observations while walking the temple dog

i)

heats breaking
...soon
one more steam-room day
then a whip of cold
north airs settles in

ii)

more fireflies
than fires these nights
vacant campfire rings

iii)

dusk bat flits above
cleaning up
end of summer mosquitoes

a carpenter

old temple deck
imploding with wet rot
sledge banged down
the rest of the way

heavy gravel
stepping stone lifting

old barn boards rise again
overfilled black earth
flower beds bloom

robe cinched up
covered in sawdust motes
mouth full of galvanized steel

rough carpenter monk
building as art

yer a monk

swear angry
fuming
kick cursing

...yeah losing it

"why you mad
  yer a monk"

spinning ice cubes
around this whiskey glass
chasing a tasty IPA

"you drink?
  but yer a monk"

neglected duties
procrastinated prayers
temple dog naps

"thought you were a monk?"

yes - a tired monk

guitar case songs

those songs
battered up sheets
simple lyrics
chord progression goodness
left loose - ready
tucked under my guitar
the good ones
the bangers
strummed out big and loud

a temple dog poem

24 hour news cycling dread
spiced up hot
with twitter spitting spite

unplugged
  unfollowing
wandering forest trails
with the temple dogs
before the summer heat