Lost Way to the Sky

4/26/24

stranger things come to pass than standing in line for time

4/25/24

full of the useless

yet i pull a few weeds

study knots on the faces of trees

4/24/24

warm sun on an april stone no heavier than a spiral

witnessed by watery light that is never not here

you shall appear and reappear

and i shall awaken

4/23/24

wash peace from your words

launch a maelstrom

walk through the split in your soul

4/22/24

like something yellow you would do :: daffodil

blood in the river

blood in the breeze

the safest place to be is lost

4/21/24

a man leans toward earth

she listens begins

dropping blossoms

4/20/24

apple blossoms weighted

with snow

they ask me where we are going

thinned by mist

the mountain grows tired

grass quietly eating rain

4/19/24

snowflakes :: staying in touch after death

the long sentence of the voice at three in the morning, blameless

4/18/24

o keeper of darkness, don't we walk into life through parallel doors

a man breaks down, but i don't speak about the weight of the stone

the cherry blossom

you held out

was you

4/16/24

poems just published in tiny wren lit (issue 6) and chrysanthemum (issue 32)!

4/15/24

wind blows my fingers off

small fossils

free of mind

emerging

from a random sky

a withered tree

a child and his face

have all the light

the sea lies flat

4/14/24

five monostich:

the long limbs of human light ascending

a face without eyes the moon spills its sand

an audience reading around the desk of solitude

empty chairs in a cornfield a birthing begins

coming home to the guardian stone

4/13/24

an old rain is staring out the window

high in the winter trees

my garden has built a nest

4/12/24

spring rain :: fat stones

4/11/24

within an earlier melody

unknown outside the dream

are the lands i am and will learn to perceive

whose expanse of lake is sane enough

to receive the grace

of winter geese

being asleep while two calling owls speak the language of night

4/10/24

rain's rhythm

dawn chorus

the river begins

4/9/24

afraid of the eclipse :: i was right to be

droning engines die

wind sound

vast

4/7/24

death of the sun

tomorrow, eclipse

shadow of man, of moon

blue-green lichen

on rain-darkened trees

journal of dreams

4/6/24

in the last car of the train

nodding asleep, holding the way home

open

4/5/24

a rainbow

to end the day—

three journeys in last night's sleep

three monostich:

dreaming snow last night in different lives

the same bed years apart restored from ashes

small beginning dropped in the night in the soil

4/4/24

doves are nesting in a yard i've stopped speaking to

opened the window

dropped an ant

into spring

4/3/24

no mountains here

—what is higher

than thunder

geese flying

a pair—

no gazing at the sky

4/2/24

in a sweet scented breeze

i don't know

whose petals

3/31/24

using a mourning dove's coo

to quiet

my ears

lost the moon

behind a pine

so the day begins

3/30/24

long wings

climbing a thermal

virgin sky

3/29/24

rainy skies

flowers sleep

hazy moon

flowers dream

3/28/24

kneeling

hands in mud

restoring water to flow

3/27/24

eaves drip

dripping

the swollen heavens dry

mixing vinegar and water

before easter

snow squalls

3/26/24

with stems that stood

through winter—

here i'll plant my life

the wind

the house

i listen to them moan

3/25/24

the sun is warm

the windflowers will

lift their heads

3/24/24

under heaven's freedom

to be stormy or clear

wearing my black beret

3/23/24

equinox

the widower has grown

a new beard

dead branches

my living hands

breaking

3/22/24

picking up the dollar

someone dropped

a buddhist nun walks by

morning with

a killing frost

she prefers my naked face

3/21/24

pine forests i cannot see from

ohio

the sky reaches there

3/20/24

limbs that walk

limbs that grow

three old oaks and i

sky and winds loud and restless all day about money

3/19/24

releasing water from a stagnant pool i look within

a moonless night

my neighbor's light

all this hurry to die

3/17/24

a pregnant moon

climb into bed together

killed

on the road

i have no heart for travel

morning sky

evening of my life—

receive the waxing moon

3/16/24

a quick thunderstorm has left me rushing

shuffles away in his body

the wind

bends

a tree

3/15/24

white orchids

yellowing—

i have an appointment to be cured

3/14/24

away, alone

a gravel road

blackbirds chattering

3/13/24

an early windflower

white

where snow never fell

sharing last night's

dreams

dawn bleeds

3/11/24

to avoid my hands

an injured finch

flutters from death on the road

3/10/24

for pine cones swept to an asphalt fate i grieve

3/8/24

blue umbrella

broken rib

cloudless skies

3/6/24

even the old orchard

turns death

into grass

sawing downed limbs into rolls of thunder

tracing wounds

across the spiraling sky

fallen tree and i

3/5/24

plundering an abandoned nest

one crow

death

3/4/24

within

the paper lantern

storm-darkened ohio night

3/1/24

the artist

sheds

his clay

2/29/24

coming up from the basement to a house still standing

2/25/24

flow of clouds beyond the bough of a newly dead tree

2/24/24

in the warmth of the sun i offer the sun my warmth

2/23/24

the way forward

lonely day

drone of a small plane

2/22/24

the sidewalk is empty and i am alive

2/16/24

as she teaches the children to sew we turn our backs to the wind

2/14/24

has a bottle of wine

that is never to be opened

green leaves brewing for tea

2/13/24

gathering up the newspapers delivered to her empty house, yellow

2/11/24

so close

to the crocus

i have seen my veins

2/10/24

distant sound of a steel stake

in failing light

driven into our earth—

2/9/24

the voice inside stops to hear ohio in the wind

2/8/24

having shaved my beard

later

i bring a rose

2/7/24

inside

the inside silence—

a sudden cardinal sings

2/5/24

pine leaves needled with frost

inner

warmth

kneels first

then enters

the rose

2/3/24

A new poem (haikoan) just published in SurVision, Issue #14!

2/2/24

sunlight

is the milk

to my green

tea

here's a big white dog

rolling in the grass—

groundhog day

dreamless

after a night of rain

morning egg

1/31/24

Three Haikoan (#s 13, 14, 15) published in Heliosparrow!

1/29/24

a dream of two birds

tied together

flying toward some naked trees

1/28/24

for years i expect

his dying breath

to wash ashore beside me

1/26/24

full of the wars

i am wearing

a shirt soaked with life

1/22/24

spirals of seeds

top tall dried weeds—

my path through the field completes a circle