looking at the world through drops of counterfeit lace on the window pane
Snowflakes or fireflies Beneath an oval moon Do I wake or dream?
grey rocks flowering in melting fu… first blooms of March after winter… a flock of ducks is muttering in t… the first light of day to brush th… shakes the branches they reply…
a cookbook is a strange place to find a recipe for the mind but the notes tell me the lemon tr… blooms year ‘round, never stops; while one branch sweetens the air
the silence of colour palette of fall reflected on water white birch trees granite rocks
a great blue heron watches from a mogul of grass as I scavenge a poem from the marsh Tom Peepety calls
WINTER SHADOW / Feb 11, 2011 small white stones fall rattling to the ground a shadow keeps pace beside me through the groaning night
All I wanted to do was ride my mo… And make out at Spooner’s Point. But when Mary Daley got pregnant Her father threatened me with the… So I married her and went to work
Now that love has died Only silence remains between Two lonely people
come sit beneath my branches and read to me from dead poets for I am old all texture and symmetry a conspiracy of cocoons
Suppose you was 18 years old And never had a single thing In all your life to call yours alo… Except your body and your face? And suppose you went to work
liquid blue nightgown made of lighter fare floats in romance of autumn air a ballerina in an erotic dance longing to join that v-trail in th…
In the universe Of winking stars is there one Who also wonders?
once the larvae have hatched how long can they survive without… each day I go forceps in hand to count the dead
I am a tree beside the water my ancient roots run deep and wide in Mother Earth as one body dies