6/30/25

 



long limbs of light climb

where resurrection leads

white leaves appear on willow trees




 



new prints in the forest clay

cumulus building a new sky

whose shadow will be slipping away




6/29/25

 



the audience calls out a name

the name dies instantly, cries to god

is made flesh, bleeds, dies

joins the audience, calls out a name




 



water pulls my secret

deep into its pockets

loves the drowning i do not love







i will know it

    outside the dream

when it comes

    behind the calm

because it breathes






6/28/25




one can heal 

and another is healed by being wounded

the way death stands some people up on their feet



 

 



an old postcard from the rain kneels

in my hand—

this longing for home when there is no shore in sight




6/27/25

 



sunset

because i can die i am living

everyone i love but do not know opening in the wind




 



a monotonous ferry ride 

becomes soil beneath the feet of god 

where the eyes of the dead open and open




6/26/25

 



whose gospel has left my heart unread

whose sun

shall leave my eyes




 



corn and clover

where am i going

the secret never arrives




6/25/25

 



removed a crushed body from the asphalt lane

killing heat forecast

we teach death our ways







are you one to dissolve

in the salt of a soul

seeking moist and timid sin




 



untied from its willows

the river dies—

stars graze on time in the desert sky




6/24/25

 



gathered the freedom

to be an anchor

wandering among the waves




6/23/25

 



restoring the egg to its skimpy nest :: gently closing its eye




 



more shadows in my eye than a universe of eyes—old sky as barefoot as birds




 



can you sew me a pocket :: filled with answers and doves




6/22/25

 



always thought water would listen to anyone

mouth of sighs

breath of hearts




6/21/25

 



stepped into life's water

stone without skin

felt for the first time cold winds




 



shall my flame weep in the reign of ash


shall i claim the living pine where mountains die


whose voice has raised a shadowed word

against seas of shattered light




 



glimpsed outside

on a weathered sign—

blood that flows

between two hearts

will never answer to time




6/20/25

 



peace to the death

which becomes a rose


peace to the heart

which greens you




6/19/25

 



our music preserves the echo :: of stones washing the sea




6/18/25

 



inside the dying of my apple tree

the rose is old

the dreams are green




 



the sky you awakened in the eyes of the rain :: holds the moon the night and the reason to remain




 



let wild seed wake before the rains grow old :: before the moon is shut out of your heart




 



washing my poetry i sweeten the sea :: until the green of your island is saved




 



moon sheds moon

opens an infinite eye

the risk of being reborn throbs through the sky




6/17/25

 



to be water that has not found a well

            to die young

                        fallen from a cloud




6/16/25

 



if there is a gate it will be left open

if there is a border may the dead guide you over

but follows no road where it goes




 



birth was a drama that one member of the cast does not remember




 



soul


not substance but naked 

            —voice in a mirror with tiny cracks 

where the other face of night is looking

             kissed by what the poet sees 

resisting all that falls from god

             nothing else can be so still




6/13/25

 



just enough darkness to forest the world :: then light dawns in one leaf




6/12/25

 



last drops of rain in hands of a breeze    stirring what others need




 



in the throb beneath a drop of blood :: i feel my wounds at war




6/10/25

 



in the oar i've abandoned i long for the sea




 



when its suffering's washed away :: what remains of clay




6/7/25

 



let's awake in the garden others can't see

            naked as the moon turning dust to dream




6/6/25

 



a crystal drop tips each twig

            chickadee calls drift away

i enter a willow at dusk in the rain




6/4/25

 



does water remember the child in its arms bleeding his beautiful pearls of breath




 



i set out candles at daybreak to keep some darkness near




 



there is sky in my arrow :: there is no path to my sky




6/3/25

 



can you remember the touch of your hand as it gave you the power to heal




 



is memory the only place the dead are given light to see