a great blue heron watches from a mogul of grass as I scavenge a poem from the marsh Tom Peepety calls

crickets and brittle leaves empty seed pods scurrying in the heavy scent of autumn

Autumn dusk descends Street lights run on rain-slicked… To glistening pools

my real name was Clarence but they always called me Dummy because they thought I was stupid I lived with my Mom and swept up… for a dollar a day ‘cause

Clouds on horizon Now and then a shorebird’s cry On buffeting wind

she watches him as if the fault were in her eyes poor shorn Sampson withered hands grip the canes that barely hold the frail reflect…

through the sea smoke’s shimmering… where the Passamaquoddy flows the pulsing heartbeat of the strob… in my footsteps, crunching snow through the whirling, wind-blown f…

Itistoocoldoutformetodayho waboutucallinsicklikeid coffwenudo

Early morning mist Loon fishing quiet water Shining wake behind

we saw your burnished footprints in the soft beach sand followed them across the sea and through the shattered sky beyo… ‘one small step for man’, he said

the silence of colour palette of fall reflected on water white birch trees granite rocks

Now that love has died Only silence remains between Two lonely people

WINTER SHADOW / Feb 11, 2011 small white stones fall rattling to the ground a shadow keeps pace beside me through the groaning night

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

last night the winter world transformed to summer’s sphere fireflies in the night their aimless paths alight