dig, lift and turn – May 14


dig lift and turn,

let the dirt fall

from our shovels

into the barrow.


the garden


from our struggle.


Posted in poetry | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

dogwood petals – May 13


dogwood petals paper

our path

as well as goose poop



all of it waste product

but some

more welcome.


Posted in poetry | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

late evening quandry

5.12 .2017 (4.14)

warmth through the

muscles, a tightness

dancing through

eyelids heavy and



whatever happened

to youth, muscles, stray

thoughts of adventure


instead I stare through

railings at a lamp shade

distanced below and

the green leather chair


while the cat pulls herself

back under the table, rests

her chin on the floor and

breathes placidly



because it is what she does

just live. while I imagine

that I have to do

something more than

just find my next meal

and not let the predators

get me.


Posted in poetry | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

spring yard work – May 9


soil, mulch, deep string

roots make up

the work


pacing, slow, steady

not rushed is

the flow


spring gardening opening

the body to another




with no have-to


just an encounter


with the ground

and the ground of



Posted in poetry | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

High Sierra Hwy 89 – April 29


the road drops

a thousand feet

on either side.


no matter.


after the first hundred

the rest

won’t matter.


Posted in poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

prayer – April 24



face on the pillow

cheeks marked

by the oxygen



her eyes are down

barely open and

it scares

the hell out of



what happened to the

little girl, precious

diamond child,

at age forty three

years caught up.


you reach out

hug, kiss, wave

a hand across that

brow and say a

prayer for real.


really Father, God,

Blessed one, lay your

healing hands upon

this one.


whatever’s happened

help her to be whole



Posted in poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

his chair gets up – April 20


his chairs gets up

by itself


a button moves

him into



to rise, step, move

out for bodily



and yet his voice

is clear


his eye sharp

his listening

full and present,


inner strength

as the outer



Posted in poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment