little lies, seeds of thyme shallow-rooted, often sewn cover the largest stone yet a tree springs from a single seed

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

seek the council of wild things in… leaves that turn their silver side… before the rain slender reeds that accept and bend they will sew your words abroad

sunlight through the clouds in a ring of bright water loons fish two by two

pillars of sunshine through cloud - heavenly suburb under construction

Early morning mist Loon fishing quiet water Shining wake behind

GRAVE POEM: EDITH MUDGET… How is it that I, who kept my hou… And, indeed, my life, and the live… Of my family, in perfect order; I, who made the beds before they w…

Still they knock at my door And complain About the state of the world Selling fear Like grape Kool Aid

My queen for a day My man’s is in drag again Halloween party

it was always said that of all the people on the Island I loved life the best I who had the least but I had all I needed

The taste of winter ice Dug in August from the sawdust Of Conley’s ice house The slap of the screen door On Grammy’s porch

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…

which of our ancestors did it - traded wings for thumbs burdened us with possessions fed us to the uncompromising earth…

surf and turf of St. Andrews olde salts and bullshit under one blue tarp gossip thick as molasses sparks quick as match-lit gas

Tide tickling sun’s wake Under a thin skin of ice Beach disappearing