Renga For Ben
All night, a late snow descends unseen, smothering the young crocuses. * Gray-hulled clouds float east at dawn, covering the meager sun. * My dog sniffs between the slats of Continue Reading →
Category Archives: Poetry
Master of the Nets
I have been known to mix my tracks with fishermen, to watch them cast below the dam under brass-lacquered trees, watch them cast out into the white crush of water Continue Reading →
On My Son Ben
I know a tree where you used to play, a hundred townies’ names sliced into its tattered trunk, a robe of Joes and Emilys, Rachels and Dannys, a vast beech Continue Reading →
Ikebana
—for Jessamyn Foliage should dominate, stems never cross or obscure the line poking heaven, all flowers odd in number, humble, without thorns, no hothouse roses, none of those bright, showboating Continue Reading →
100-Word Water Ceremony
for Tim and Judy He spoke of the ocean of suffering, an ocean of cars and hospitals, burnt toast, frozen pipes, old skin, cancer, caskets, and birth—how we are born Continue Reading →
Some Birds Never Sing
Even after church bells, car horns, or the noon whistle have set such a good example, the world is more silent than we dare know, a surrendered, limp, unspeaking thing. Continue Reading →
Lost Lake Meditation
At morning, the trees ripple like anemones, and we move with a kind of lightness, collecting food in plastic bags, glazing our skins with lotion, drive out along the shore Continue Reading →
The Twenty Percent of October
The fall rain lets itself down, crackling through the poplar trees, leaves now glazed by the vermilion sun, a vermilion slit at the edge of dusk. It is October, it Continue Reading →